


A Thousand Years

by Finchyxpanic



Category: Tom Hiddleston AU - Fandom
Genre: Angst, F/M, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, will tag as I go
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2019-10-28 12:05:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 76,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17787092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Finchyxpanic/pseuds/Finchyxpanic
Summary: Lord Thomas Hiddleston is the only son of the Earl and Countess of Bedgebury, and the heir to Hiddleston Shipping. But he's more interested in spending his time in Gentleman's clubs and circulating with social elite of London, than running the family business.Scared for the future of his families legacy, his father threatens his son out of his inheritance, unless he starts taking his future and the future of the business more seriously. The condition?He must take a wife.





	1. ONE

**Author's Note:**

> Here we go! 
> 
> This is something I've been playing around with for a while, and I'm finally ready to share with the world!
> 
> A few notes:  
> This is set in the early 1920's - but I'm not a historian. I have however researched to the best of my ability, and try to be as accurate as possible, but I may exaggerate some parts to fit with the story. 
> 
> Locations are mostly fictional - as far as i'm aware there is/was no Earl of Bedgebury - however there is a Bedgebury Pinetum in Kent - England. Resturant's in London are real places. 
> 
> This is AU, obviously. Therefore the only thing I'm using are names and faces. This is not a true reflection on Tom or any of his families real persons. 
> 
> ENJOY!!!

A formal invite, delivered by hand to join his Mother and Father for a long weekend at the family estate.

It was never going to be good news.

Lord Thomas Hiddleston, son of the Earl and Countess of Bedgebury, always dreaded it when he received summons from his Mother and Father that his presence was expected at the family home. The large holdings in the Kentish Countryside was where the young Lord had spent his youth and the second he was old enough to leave for the city, he’d leapt at the chance. It was a dreary, miserable place, and home to nothing more than a handful of cottages and fields full of sheep.

Even now, as the car made its journey along the mile long gravel driveway, he looked out and couldn’t place any fond memories of his childhood in the large grey stone Manor House where he had grown up. 

The car came to a stop directly in front of the main house, and seconds later the door swung open. His feet hit the stones as he exited the car, and he nodded his thanks to Mr. Johnson, the driver. Johnson tipped his hat and Thomas heard to car door click shut behind him, as he proceeded to bound up the stone steps two at a time towards the entrance of the family home.

The door was already open in anticipation of his arrival and he was greeted by the familiar household staff. Mr Wilson, the family’s loyal butler since before Lord Thomas was born still as stone faced as ever.

“Welcome home, Sir,” He greeted, as Thomas slowed in the entrance way, and he automatically fell into step, he shrugged off his outer jacket and it was taken into his hands, and then into the care of a maid, and out of sight before he’d even had chance to respond.

“Thank you, Wilson, how is everything here? I passed Doctor Cox on the driveway, is everyone well?” Thomas came to a standstill as they entered the drawing room, and he took a cursory glance around. It was the same as always, except two maids were busy frantically dusting the shelves on the far wall. Normally such tasks would not be done in his presence, unless of course… “Are we expecting company, Wilson?”

“Your Mother will be down shortly, Thomas.” He rolled his eyes, something was definitely going on. Something which Mr. Wilson clearly knew about, but knew it was not his place to divulge. Thomas wasn’t completely clueless. The formal letter requesting he spent some time at the family home had rung some alarm bells. Thomas wondered why, if his Mother was so desperate to see him she couldn’t have just telephoned

“Is she unwell?” Thomas was suddenly worried.

“I’m perfectly fine.” He turned to his mother’s sharp tone in the doorway, and felt himself overcome with relief. Thomas walked quickly towards her with open arms and embraced her tightly, only pulling back to kiss her on the cheek. He continued to hold onto her arms, when she spoke again, “Nice of you to finally show your face, Tommy,”

“I was worried, you should have telephoned.” he told her, frowning.

“Doctor Cox was seeing your father.” Of course he was, that made more sense. His Father’s health had been slowly deteriorating over the past couple of years. “He’s not well.”

“I should have come sooner, I’m sorry, Mother.” Thomas tried to sound sincere, but his relationship with my father was fraught at the best of times. It was easier for him to stay in London away from his constant condescending lectures.

“Yes, you should have.” His Mother agreed, she looked over to Wilson, “Wilson, have the maids set up a room for Sidney? He’ll be here for dinner, please let Maria know, so there’s enough food.”

Wilson nodded, “Yes, my Lady.” and then left them alone.

“And to what do we owe the pleasure of Sidney’s company?” This was all getting stranger by the second. Sidney was the family solicitor, his Father’s lifelong friend and Thomas’ Godfather. Lady Diana Hiddleston didn’t answer immediately, instead she linked her arm with his and began walking them together towards the sitting room.

“Jane,” she called back over her shoulder, “Have some tea brought into the sitting room, and some sandwiches, Thomas has had a long journey.”

“Your father is getting the estate in order, Tommy.” Diana spoke quietly, “Doctor Cox says he could go on like this for several more years, but realistically, it’s unlikely he’ll make it through another winter.” She let go of her sons arm, and settled down on the sofa. Thomas made himself comfortable on the adjacent armchair. “I want this to come from me, Tom, your father is worried about the future of the family business, you’ve not been in the office for several weeks.”

“I’ve been busy.” It was a pathetic excuse, he wasn’t even trying.

“This is your job, Thomas!” Diana hissed, “Nothing is more important, your father, and your Grandfather built this company up from nothing, and you have absolutely no interest in it’s future, your future!”

“That’s not true,” he defended, “I am interested, but they don’t need me in the office, it’s well taken care of.”

“You are still expected to be there, that was the decision you made, live in London, and oversee the running of Hiddleston Shipping, or stay here and learn how to manage the estate, a chore I will very soon be too old and tired to continue doing.” Lady Hiddleston had taken over the job of Estate Manager, when his Father was first taken ill. It was meant to be a temporary measure, but it turned out his Mother quite enjoyed being a business women. He knew he couldn’t avoid it forever. “You are thirty-four years old Thomas, you need to grow up.”

“Fine, I’ll spend a bit more time in the office.” He shrugged, non-committal.

“This isn’t just about the office, Tommy.” My mother sighed, “You are our only son, you’ve known your entire life that you’ll inherit everything and…” She paused, and took a few short breaths, as if gearing herself up for whatever she was about to say next, “And your father is concerned that when he dies… you’ll squander every penny of the family fortune and the business will sink into the ground.”

“Mum-” He started, but what she said next stopped him short.

“And I think he’s right to be concerned.”

Diana didn’t say anything more, because Jane arrived with the tea, and the subject was quickly changed to small talk about the weather in London, and how well both his sisters were getting on. But he knew it wasn’t over. Sidney was coming for a reason and he was sure his Father was going to demand he return back home to take over the running of the estate where both he and his Mother could keep an eye on him.

As expected Sidney arrived just before dinner, and everyone sat down together in the Dining Room. The older Lord Hiddleston joined them and it became very clear just how unwell he was. He’d lost weight, and he’d aged considerably. He looked like a frail old man, and Thomas did feel guilty for not visiting sooner or more frequently. He hated feeling guilty.

“Well, I believe there is no time like the present to start discussing proceedings.” Sidney announced. He was an old man, not as old as the Earl, but a long-time friend nonetheless. He handled all James Hiddleston’s legal dealings, personal and business. He was a short, stout man, not fat though, and always impeccably turned out. What was left of his greying hair was always greased neatly back. He took great pride in his appearance.

“Certainly Sid, I believe Diana has discussed my primary concerns with Thomas.”

“Which are unfounded.” Thomas interjected.

“Thomas, your father has every right to be concerned about the family business and estate when he is no longer here to oversee it. This responsibility falls to you, and unfortunately I have to agree, on a personal and professional level…you are not up to task.” Sidney began, “You know, word travels fast in London.”

“I don’t go into the office because they make it very clear I’m not required.”

“So instead of doing something about it, you spend your all your time in Gentleman’s Clubs and getting inebriated with socialites.” Sidney’s voice was accusing, but the accusation was accurate.

“I am a socialite.”

“No, you’re a businessman.”

“You’re an embarrassment,” His Father cut in, “And I will not allow you to inherit and squander my money, Sid, if you will.”

“Of course, James.” Sidney nodded and looked back to Thomas. “Your Father has made the decision to put a legal stop in his Will, which will state that upon his death the business will be sold. The proceeds from which will purchase your Mother a comfortable home and the remainder split between your sisters. You will still inherit the estate.”

“But without the income from the business, the estate will be impossible to run. The cost of the upkeep and the employment of the staff-” Thomas was cut off.

“This stop is conditional however.” Sidney cut in, then took a pause to sip his wine, and clear his throat. “Upon your marital status.”

“Excuse me?” Thomas almost choked on his own saliva.

“You need a wife, boy.” His father was speaking now, “A woman to keep you grounded. We all had our fun in our youth, but you’re getting too old to be fussy. You need to settle down before you stop becoming an option.”

“I’m a man, I don’t need to be an option, and I don’t need a wife.” Thomas scoffed, not quite believing what he was hearing. Oh, it wasn’t the first time, his Mother had pestered him more than once about wishing he would settle down and give her some grandchildren. His Father also, had groused several times about Thomas being the last in succession to his business, unless he had a son it could be passed onto. But Thomas was in no hurry, he’d select himself a wife when the time was right. He was barely thirty-five, he was in no way over the hill.

“This is a changing world, Thomas.” Sidney decided to intervene, “Unfortunately, very soon it won’t be as simple as just…taking a wife. Women have choices nowadays, they can vote!” The old man looked almost scandalised by this fairly recent change in legalisation.

“Any woman would be lucky to have me as their husband.” Thomas shrugged.

“Is that what you think? They’d be lucky to have a man who has nothing to offer them? No future, no inheritance for their children?” Sidney shook his head, “Your father is giving you an opportunity to change Thomas. You should be grateful.”

“Grateful? First of all, you want me to just find myself a wife, then you’ve just told my I’m the least eligible man in England. So, pray tell, how do you expect me to obtain myself a wife?” Tom rolled his eyes dramatically. He knew, with Sidney in attendance, he should be taking this is bit more seriously. But the whole thing was laughable. Marriage was irrelevant, he’d just go to the office more if that’s what it took.

“You need not worry about that. We’ve made an arrangement on your behalf.” His Father spoke now.

“You remember your Father’s friend, Lord Cottingham?” His Mother asked.

“I played Cricket with his sons at University.” Thomas nodded, “Did we summer with him and his wife once?”

“Many years ago.” His Mother nodded.

“His youngest, Lady Eliza is a very forward-thinking young lady. Well educated, and from good family standing. Fortunately, her father is keen to join our families.” His Father stopped abruptly to take a deep breath. Then he coughed, an awful hacking, which prompted their Server, whose name Thomas had not yet learnt, to rush forward and pour a glass of fresh water. Thomas waited patiently for his Father to catch his breath and finish. “Lord and Lady Cottingham and Lady Eliza will be joining us for dinner tomorrow and spending the night. Lady Eliza will be staying on for the rest of the weekend so the pair of you may become acquainted.”

“Excuse me?”

“Lady Eliza is the youngest of seven children, all six of her older siblings are boys. Her Father and Step Mother fear the impact on being raised by her brothers will affect her ability to find a husband.” Thomas’ Mother explained, “But having been told much about this young lady, we feel the two of you would be well matched.”

“You’ve arranged my marriage? Without consulting me? This is…this is madness. It’s absolutely preposterous! You must be joking?” Thomas stood from his seat.

“Your Father does not jest.” Sidney raised a hand as he spoke, signalling Thomas should take his seat again. “This is not simply about marriage. It is about grounding you, perhaps if you have a wife, and hopefully children of your own, you’ll start taking your inheritance more seriously. Your Mother and Father do not wish to cast you out of the family business. Your Father wants you to help it grow. A wife, however, will prevent you from spending all your time in Gentlemen’s Clubs and Dance Halls.”

“If I refuse?”

“Then Sidney will change my will, as advised and upon my death, the business will be sold.” James Hiddleston leaned back in his chair and assessed his Son, “I am not doing this to be cruel, Thomas. This is for your own good.”

“You’re saying I do not have a choice.”

“You do have a choice. But it’s up to you to make the right one.” Diana Hiddleston reached for her Son’s hand, but Thomas withdrew it before she could reach, and ignored the look of hurt on his Mother’s face.

“And the girl? What if we should not get along? She may be repugnant, you cannot expect me to attend social events for the business with a…a… dog on my arm!”

“Whilst we have not seen Lady Eliza since she was a girl, I have it on good authority that she is pleasant on the eye. As a child she was a pretty little thing, you remember don’t you dear?” James turned to his wife.

“Fair hair, like her poor Mother, and green eyes if I recall.” Diana offered her recollection.

“This is not uncommon, Thomas. Both your Sister’s were matched for suitable marriages. We have been lenient with you, because you are our only Son, and we always hoped you may figure your future out for yourself.” Thomas looked to his Father is disbelief.

“Both Sarah and Emma knew their matches. Emma and Christopher were courting since Emma went out into society. You’re suggesting I marry a woman I’ve never met! And how old is she? You’ve said she is Lord Cottingham’s youngest.”

“Lady Eliza will turn twenty-two in the autumn.” Diana answered.

“May I ask what she makes of this…this circus?”

“Lady Eliza is a sensible young woman. She has her head screwed on and she understands what is feted to her if she does not take a husband.” Sidney spoke again. “You might be pleasantly surprised Thomas. This will be good for you.”

“Where would we be expected to reside?”

“I’d hope you’d remain in London, as per the condition of taking an active role in the management of Hiddleston Shipping.” Sidney had seemed to take control of the conversation again.

“You want me to have this girl living with me, in my home?”

“Well, where else would you expect to put her? You cannot very well sire heirs to the family empire under separate roofs.” Sidney rolled his eyes.

“This is disgusting. It’s barbaric…it’s… it’s…” Thomas failed to find any more words and fell silent. He covered his face with his hands and took several deep breaths. “I shan’t forgive you for this Father. You may go to your grave, resting assured that your legacy lives on, but I can promise you, you will die with the bitter knowledge that you’ve made your only Son a miserable man.”

“I’m tiring,” James said after a few moments silence. “Where’s Wilson? I should like to retire to my rooms now. I have a busy day ahead tomorrow.”

“Are you just going to pretend you didn’t hear me?” Thomas asked.

“Thomas, not now! Your Father is drained. This is far too much for him to be dealing with.” Diana scolded her son.

“For him to deal with? He’s not the one being threatened out of his family’s inheritance and forced to marry a girl who is barely past adolsonce!” Thomas raised his voice, ready to leave his seat once more.

“Thomas, that’s enough!” His mother’s sharp tone cut him down. So instead, he fell silent, picked up his wine and drained the glass.

 


	2. TWO

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! What an incredible reaction to the first chapter. Thank you to everyone who has read and commented.   
> I know you are all desperate to meet my Lady Eliza - so here she is!

“James!” A tall man stepped out of the car and onto the gravel drive, opening his arms wide to his old friend. James Hiddleston leant on his walking stick for support as he slowly approached the other man.

“Johnathon, it’s been too long my good friend,” the pair embraced with a pat on the back, whilst the chauffer assisted Lord Cottingham’s wife from the vehicle. “And this must be the New Lady Cottingham, a delight to finally meet you.”

“Lord Hiddleston,” The finely attired, and slightly greying woman accepted James’ hand and allowed him to bestow a kiss upon it.

“This is my long, suffering wife, Lady Diana Hiddleston,” James gestured to Diana to who stood behind him on the bottom step to the entrance of their home. Then he gestured to his right, “My Son, Thomas.”

“Lady Hiddleston,” Lord Johnathon let go of his friend and approached Thomas’ mother first, taking her hand and greeting her in the same way James had greeted his new wife, “May I say the years have been kind to you, you’re more beautiful than I remember.”

“And you are just as charming as I recall.” Diana teased.

“My, my, you’ve grown up, young man.” Johnathon joked as he approached Thomas, “The last time I saw you, you were barely up to my waist, I’m sure you don’t remember.”

“Vaguely,” Thomas’ voice was dry. It was early in the day still, and he’d sat up drinking until late in the evening. Finishing off a cask of his Father’s best bourbon out of pure spite.

The chauffer shut the doors of the car, having unloaded the small amount of luggage and passed it onto Mr Wilson to take to their guests rooms. Then he climbed back in the drivers seat and drove off. James Hiddleston watched the car leave with a bemused expression.

“I apologise, I’m confused…your daughter, Lady Eliza?” James started.

“Eliza will be joining us a little later, I did not have time to send word ahead. She’s taking the train from the city and will call for a car on her arrival.” Johnathon explained.

“Lady Eliza volunteers at a Soup Kitchen on Saturday mornings, I did insist she miss it this once, but she can be a force to be reckoned with, when she has her mind set to a task.” Lady Cottingham explained, with an eye roll.

“A Soup Kitchen, how very selfless of her.” Diana’s smile was genuine. That sounded like just the woman her son needed. Someone who was kind and selfless, but also strong-willed.

The families made their way indoors to the sitting room, where tea was served. Thomas remained silent, partially relieved his betrothed was not yet in attendance. His head was pounding and he was doing his best to concentrate on the conversation between his parents and his future in-laws.

“I’m so excited to meet my new daughter-in-law, she was just a dot when we last saw her.” Diana gushed to the old family friends, “Is she excited for the engagement.”

“I think apprehensive is a more suitable word,” Johnathon started, “She expected this, no doubt, but…well I think perhaps she may feel different once she has met you, Thomas.”

“Of course.” Thomas gave one nod, wanting to keep tight lipped, less he say something he regret. Apprehensive was just one of the things he felt. Angry, cheated, bullied. He could go on.

“Thomas, I’ve been lead to believe you own a townhouse in the city?” Lady Cottingham addressed him now.

“That’s right.”

“May I enquire to it’s location?”

“Mayfair.”

“Devine, and I must assume it is staffed?”

“I have my Valet, a cook and a housekeeper, yes.” Thomas nodded.

“What of Lady Eliza when you are wed, will you be recruiting her a Ladies Maid?” Tom arched his brow. He’d only been informed of his engagement last night, now he was expected to answer questions about how he might cater to his future wife’s domestic requirements.

“She doesn’t have her own?” Diana chipped in, “She’d be more than welcome to bring with her the one she has.”

“Eliza and I currently share Daphne, although Eliza quite often prefers to go without. I imagine this will change when she is wed. One must keep up appearances when one has a husband to impress.” The Lady Cottingham chuckled, either finding herself amusing or nervous of what the Hiddleston family would think of her step-daughter.

“How very modern, I don’t know what I’d do without my ladies.” Diana shook her head in disbelief. “Although I hear it is becoming quite common, young women are garnering more independence than what I had in my youth.”

“Quite,” Johnathon cut in, “You’ll find my daughter needs for very little, ever since she was a young girl she’s been quite self-sufficient. She is also very accomplished, Lord Thomas, I am sure you’ll find Eliza to be an ideal companion.”

“I’m sure I’ll be able to judge for myself when I am finally able to meet her.,” Thomas shifted in his seat, and spoke lazily, “However, for now I shall retain judgement of her based upon her lack of manners, since she was invited here today, but is yet to arrive. What if the cooks had prepared luncheon for her?”

“But they had not, Thomas.” His Mother said, voice tight.

“I must apologise on behalf of my son, as you can imagine, he is a little nervous about meeting his future wife.” James interjected quickly, and it was obvious that both sides were teetering on a knifes edge, concerned that one wrong word could negate the whole arrangement. Both attempting, very poorly to convince that their offspring was the perfectly suited match for the others.

“I’m not twelve, Father.” Tom snapped, “I apologise, Lord Cottingham, Lady Cottingham,” He nodded at each of them, “Please, tell me of Lady Eliza, what are her interests, pursuits?”

“Surely, it would be preferable for Lady Eliza to tell you of that herself, Thomas?” Diana stopped him, before the Cottingham’s could answer, “The pair of you shall have plenty of time over this weekend to become acquainted, should Johnathon tell you all about her now, you’ll have nothing left to talk about her on arrival.”

“I thought,” James started, “That this afternoon my wife might take you on a walk of the gardens. I find I tire easily and must rest. But it’s a pleasant day and it shall pass time whilst we await your daughter’s arrival.”

“That sounds delightful, your estate is known for it’s beautiful Rose Gardens, I am quite keen to seen them.” Lady Cottingham smiled, and all involved looked relieved that talk of the upcoming nuptials had moved into the background, for now at least.

 

 

“You must find your visits to the estate quite relaxing.” Lord Cottingham and Thomas trailed behind the ladies, as they talked animatedly about the different varieties of Roses adorning the extensive gardens of the estate, “What with the hustle and bustle of London, I know myself I’m always relieved to return home after a stay in the city.”

“Quite the opposite, I must admit I find returning to the family home all a bit droll. There is so little happening and I’m constantly at a loss for entertainment.” Thomas answered honestly, having decided he certainly wasn’t going to sell himself to this family.

“Goodness, I admire you honesty and I dare say you and Eliza will get along quite well, she also much prefers London, to the country. I’m certain if she could have she’d have taken residence there long ago.”

“Why hasn’t she?”

“It wouldn’t be proper for a young, unmarried woman to live alone in the city. For now, she settles for frequent visits to her brothers and their families-” The older man stopped dead as the approached the top of the winding drive way and looked out. Thomas followed his gaze, and squinted, in the distance he could just make out a lone figure making their way up to the main house.

“Who on ear-” Tom didn’t get time to finish.

“Oh dear, I believe my daughter is exercising defiance by means of arriving on foot.” Lord Cottingham sighed out loud and the two women in front came to a halt. Thomas watched on as Lady Cottingham took in the approaching guest.

“Oh my goodness grief, what does this girl think she is doing? My sincerest apologises Lady Hiddleston, Lord Thomas,” Johnathon’s wife spun to look at Thomas. “I instructed her to call for a car, she must have been walking for hours!”

“Unlikely.” Thomas interrupted sharply, “The train station is no more than thirty minutes from the estate, and it is fine weather.”

He was unsure why he felt the sudden need to defend the young woman he was yet to meet, but surely to be married to very soon. But he did feel her Step-Mother was unnecessarily harsh on the girl. Although, he must admit he’d have never made the walk from the train station, not when there were cars available.

The small group waited as the figure approached and Thomas noted as she got closer that she carried a small suitcase in one hand, and walked with a bounce to her step. But it was her attire that caught his scrutinising gaze once she’d almost reached them. She wore…trousers.

They were not the type worn by a man, they still flattered the feminine form. Long, wide legs in a fabric which offered movement. Beige in colour and synched high at the waist, giving way to a cream button up blouse, which fitted her form, but had no sleeves. This meant the fair skin of her shoulders was on display. Her hair was only just visible most of it tucked under a round hat, as was much the fashion for ladies at present. The hat was a similar shade to the trousers.

The young woman beamed and waved when she got closer.

“Daddy!” She dropped her case to her feet and threw her arms around the man standing next to Thomas, “I missed you!”

“Darling, Eliza, why on earth didn’t you call for a car?” Johnathon answered, accepting his daughters affectionate embrace.

“Oh well I was stuck on that stuffy train for what felt like hours! The weather is so pleasant, and I knew it couldn’t be far, I preferred the walk.” The girl explained. It was only when she stepped back, she took stock of the other people present.

“Step-mother.” It was almost a sarcastic greeting, Thomas noted, and there was no affection there, as Lady Eliza air kissed each of Lady Cottingham’s cheeks.

“Eliza, this is Lady Diana Hiddleston, and her son, you soon to be fiancé, Lord Thomas,” her Father introduced.

“Lady Hiddleston.” Eliza smiled brightly, and bestowed the same air kisses she had her own step-mother, but Thomas considered these were more genuine in their affection. Then the girl turned to him, almost shyly, and held her hand for him to take, which he did. “Hello, Lord Thomas.”

A polite brush of his lips just of his knuckle, as he murmured, “It’s a pleasure, Lady Eliza.” and let go of her hand rather abruptly. The girl turned back to her Father and talked animatedly about her day, and Thomas watched curiously, whilst his Mother called for Mr. Wilson to collect Lady Eliza’s bag and let the cooks know their guest had arrived so dinner could be served.

She was odd.

Not, unladylike, but not like most ladies of her social standing. She was confident and chatty, Thomas noted, watching her speak to his Mother like an old friend. She was affectionate towards her Father, not unusual, but clearly he meant the world to her and visa versa, as she linked his arm whilst the made for the house.

Her attire, the first thing he’d noticed about her, was very… unique. Although not wholly uncommon for women to wear dress trousers these days, most ladies were still expected to wear dresses. Tom was still torn as to whether he liked these new fashions amongst the fairer sex, the shorter dresses seen in dance halls, of course were a pleasant change, and came with their advantages.

Thomas had little more time to speak to his future bride, as the guests and families went to their rooms to change for dinner. Truthfully, he was relieved to escape the stuffy company. Johnathon seemed fine, more laid back than his own Father, and he enjoyed their conversation. But he had to wonder what had drawn him to his tight faced wife, who had a terrible habit of speaking over her husband and belittling her step-daughter.

 

*

 

Lady Eliza had decided to walk, what turned out to be about a forty minute walk from the station to the Hiddleston’s family estate, because she wanted any excuse to delay the inevitable.

She was not naïve. She knew regardless of the quickly moving times, her father would marry her off eventually. The fact that he’d allowed her to turn twenty and have a taste of independence beforehand was a blessing. One her step-mother ardently disapproved of.

By nature, she was not defiant. In fact, growing up her father and mother before she passed, used to praise her obedience. She was her fathers ‘Good Girl’ and her Mother’s ‘Beautiful Angel’. But since her Step-Mother came onto the scene, a woman who’d been unable to bare children of her own, that had changed. At first Daphne – her Father’s new friend, had been kind, taking the girl, still mourning her mother’s death, under her wing. Doing all the things a Mother would. It was when she saw the relationship Eliza shared with her brothers, it all changed.

“It’s not good for her!” She’d hear Daphne argue with Johnathon, “No man will ever want to marry a woman who is more interested in shooting an air rifle and playing cricket, than she is running a home, and mothering children.”

Eliza did want children. She also wanted to run a home one day. She was still a girl, and she still had those dreams. But she also dreamt of meeting a prince and falling in love. Riding off into the sunset. Her step-mother had no time for such fantasies.

From the day Daphne became the New Lady Cottingham, she made it her personal mission to train Eliza in the ways of running a household. Although it was in vein, and Eliza fought her every step of the way.

Lord Thomas Hiddleston was a name Lady Eliza was more than familiar with. Although she’d never met him, not to remember anyway. She spent enough time in London, circulating the social calendar with her Sister-in-laws that one heard about men like Thomas.

The heir to Hiddleston Shipping Co, the young man was worth a fortune. A businessman by inheritance, but a socialite by nature, and choice. Every man wanted to be his friend, and every woman wanted to court him. Lord Thomas did not court though. He cavorted, with women who frequented the Dance Hall’s so Eliza had heard. There was a name for women like that, a word Eliza would not utter. And also, if rumours were to be believed, Lord Thomas was a member of several very exclusive Gentlemen’s Clubs, and what went on behind those doors, one could only speculate.

When her Father had told her an arrangement had been made with the Hiddleston’s for her to wed their only son, her stomach had turned.  Thomas Hiddleston may have been London’s most famous bachelor, but he certainly was not the most eligible.  However, her Father explained that he wanted her happy and looked after. The Hiddleston empire would ensure that for her future. That her marriage into an old friends family would make him happy. She’d do anything to make her father happy.

Eliza changed into a gown for dinner. Not her favourite, but one selected by Lady Daphne. It was a dusky pink in colour, and skimmed her curves, and brushed her ankles. It scooped at the neck, just giving a teasing glimpse of her bust. Daphne had insisted, although the marriage was agreed, Eliza must still try to ensnare the affections of her future husband. Eliza wanted to say, if she was to insight those sorts of feelings in Lord Thomas, then a bustier and rah rah skirt would be more apt. But she kept her lips sealed.

“Oh, lovely, Lady Eliza, there you are!” Lady Hiddleston sing-songed, when Eliza entered the dining hall, apparently the last of the large group, “This is my husband, Lord James Hiddleston.”

Eliza approached and allowed the older, frail man to take her hand and kiss it, “Lady Eliza, I must tell you I am delighted to have such a beauty joining our family.”

“Thank you, Lord Hiddleston, I’m sure you and your wife will look after me well, my Father has always held you in high regard, and considers you a dear friend.”

The throat clearing of Mr. Wilson captured every ones attention, “Lord Hiddleston, Lady Hiddleston, Dinner will be served momentarily.” The man nodded and made his brief exit.

Lord Hiddleston took his seat at the top of the table, after settling his wife at the opposite end of the table.

“Oh no, no Lady Eliza.” Diana faffed as Eliza moved to take her sit next to her Father as would be usual, “You’ll sit up here next to Thomas, the two of you must become better acquainted, it shall also give me chance to get to know my future daughter-in-law a little better.”

“Of course, Lady Hiddleston.” Eliza nodded, and moved to the chair next to Thomas, looking at him expectantly.

“Thomas.” Diana said sharply. The younger lord had already made himself comfortable at the table, not normally having a Lady as his counterpart. He stood quickly at his mother’s tone and pulled out the chair.

“Thank you.” Eliza said quietly, as Thomas pushed the chair in beneath her and she took her seat at the table.

A dinner of boiled hams, potatoes and steamed vegetables was served. Alcohol was plentiful, champagne, and dark rose were Lady Hiddleston’s favourites. Although Lady Eliza preferred Gin, she knew it would be impolite to ask. She noticed throughout the meal that Thomas drank very little and wondered if he felt similarly about the provided beverages.

“Lady Eliza.” Eliza almost jumped when Lady Diana addressed her. “I notice my Son is not going out of his way to make conversation with you, please, I’d like to know a little about you. What are your interests, Daphne tells me you volunteer at a soup kitchen.”

“Yes, Saturday mornings, I assist at the local shelter. I love it, meeting so many different people. I feel it is my duty to give something back. I am quite aware of how fortunate I am to have been born into a family of wealth. But I know there are people who cannot sufficiently provide for their families, I feel at least, by helping at the Soup Kitchen I know I’m doing my bit to make sure just a few of those people get a hot meal, and much needed advice and support.” Eliza took a breath. She knew she got carried away on this subject, and although Diana looked enrapt by her passion, she could also see her Step-Mother’s disapproval. “I apologise, I get quite carried away.”

“Not at all dear, it really is quite admirable.” Diana shook her head, a friendly smile gracing her lips.

“I should imagine though, you meet all sorts of unsavoury characters.” It was the first time Thomas had spoken throughout the dinner. Eliza turned with a frown.

“Not at all, sir, every one of the people I’ve met have been genuine souls. Full of gratitude-” But he stopped her.

“I can’t say I approve.”

“Oh?”

“But I’m sure you are aware, once we are wed such…activities will cease.” Thomas wasn’t looking at her, instead he lifted his drink and appeared to take a sip, but the level of his drink did not decrease.

Eliza didn’t answer. She knew, if she opened her mouth now she would be less than polite.

“No matter dear, tell me of your other pursuits, your accomplishments? Do you play any instruments?” Diana continued.

“Lady Eliza plays the piano superbly.” Daphne cut in, before Eliza had chance to speak for herself.

At Diana’s brightening eyes, Eliza felt the need to speak for herself, “I’m not so talented as my Step-mother would have you believe. I can play a few notes, but music, although I enjoy listening to it immensely is not my forte, I do understand, Thomas is an excellent pianist though?” Eliza turned to look at her future fiancé, who had been watching her it seemed, as when she turned she found herself looking directly into his eyes.

“Where did you hear that?” He asked, quickly breaking eye contact.

“Your reputation proceeds you…my brother, Edmund has heard you play.” Eliza admitted.

“I see.”

Eliza watched his profile carefully, then continued, “Well I also enjoy reading, and the outdoors…I grew up playing cricket with my brothers and I am a skilled Batsman…or woman,” This garnered a chuckle from James and Diana, who didn’t seem perturbed by the news. “Shooting also, I’m a keen shot, I did notice a few pheasants along the drive, do you shoot, Thomas?”

“Lord…Thomas, and yes. I do when season is good and the mood takes me. However, I prefer clay pigeon, more skill involved. Although I would not think it a ladylike sport.” Thomas responded, and this was the point where Eliza decided all her preconceived notions of the younger Lord were absolutely correct. He was a rude, self-important chauvinist, and she would do all within her power to ensure this wedding did not take place. Surely her Father loved her too much than to promise her into a lifetime of misery?

“Thank you, Lord Thomas, finally someone who agrees on the matter. Unfortunately, my husband has spoilt the girl. With six brothers and no female influence in the home for many years Eliza was practically raised by her brothers. But I promise, I’ve ensured those activities are kept to a minimum. I assure you, Lady Eliza will make a fine wife and mother to any children you have,” Daphne was quick to suck up to Thomas. As if he had a choice in whether he would be marrying the woman presented to him.

“I’m sure.” Thomas responded stiffly. “Father, if everyone has finished pudding, should we retire for whiskey?”

“That sounds like a marvellous idea…ladies if you’d excuse us.” Lord Hiddleston shakily stood from his chair, Wilson rushing to his aid, with a walking stick and an arm to lean on.

Eliza watched as the three men disappeared into an adjoining room, where she presumed they would sip whiskey, smoke cigars and talk business.

“Lady Eliza, tell me, do you enjoy sweet wine?” Eliza turned at Diana’s question.

“I don’t believe I’ve ever tried it,” She answered truthfully.

“I have a delightful bottle of Liebfraumilch, if you ladies would like to join me for a night cap in the sitting room?” The three women left the dining room and settled themselves comfortable in the large houses comfortable living room. From their location, the men’s low voices and James’ booming laugh could be heard echoing throughout the house.

“You are quite right, Lady Hiddleston,” Daphne commented, after taking a generous sip of the white liquid from its cut crystal glass, “This wine is truly delightful. Don’t you agree, Eliza?”

“I…It’s pleasant yes. Possibly a little too sweet for me.” Eliza set her glass of the small polished table in front of her.

“You should have said, I’d have served you a dry wine with dinner, or gin, I know we have some in the parlour.” Diana raised her hand to beckon a maid.

“Oh, please no,” Eliza quickly stopped her, “I should be retiring to bed very shortly. I’ve had a terribly long day, and alcohol does affect my sleep terribly.”

“I have taken the liberty of arranging for you and Thomas to breakfast together in the Orangery, it’s south facing and really quite lovely first thing,” Diana explained, “Then I thought perhaps he may tour you the grounds, and in the afternoon you and I might spend a little while together and discuss the wedding.”

“Oh, of course. That sounds lovely, Lady Hiddleston,” Eliza tried to sound enthusiastic, but it had been a long day, and she was quite exhausted from keeping up appearances.

“Please, call me Diana dear. We shall be related very soon, and it’s so tiresome using proper titles constantly.”

“In that case, you may call me Eliza,” the youngest lady offered her future mother-in-law a genuine smile. If this travesty did go the distance, Eliza felt confident that she would at least have a friend in Diana. She was a sweet, and genuinely kind woman.


	3. THREE

Thomas had suffered a sleepless night, and when he finally made it downstairs and into the Orangery for his pre-arranged breakfast with his betrothed, it was the farthest thing he was in the mood for. He entered the much too bright room, to find Eliza already seated at the small table by the window. She was staring out across the garden, and she absently reached for a berry from the bowl set out on in front of her, and placed it in her mouth.

“I thought you’d know that it’s impolite to begin eating before your host has joined you.” The girl visibly jumped at his entrance, so lost in her own little world, staring out into the fine morning. She turned and stood from her seat, eyes wide and her jaw still moving as she hurried to finish the fruit she’d just eaten. Thomas felt a pinch of regret for startling her, after all it was well past what would be considered an appropriate time to eat, and he had kept her waiting. She must be hungry.

He expected a stuttered apology and flushing cheeks, but neither came. Instead she waited for him to stride across the room and motion for her to take her seat once more. What he did not expect were the accusatory words which left her lips the moment he took his place at the table, “You’re late.”

“I’m sorry?”

“You’re late. I’ve been sitting here waiting to eat breakfast for over an hour. I was starting to worry that perhaps you’d gotten lost?” She explained with a hint of sarcasm in the last few words. She didn’t wait for him to start and proceeded to help herself to a generous spoon of fresh fruit salad and reached for a pastry.

“Who on earth do you think you are? And whose house are we in, exactly?” Livid didn’t even begin to describe how Thomas was feeling, he couldn’t comprehend this girls audacity, to address him in such a manner. But she seemed completely unphased by the obvious fury in his voice, or the dangerous glare he was giving her across the breakfast table. Instead she focused on pouring herself a tea, and then standing from her seat a little to pour his.

“I’m soon to be your fiancée, apparently. So I expect to be treated with a little more respect than you give to your London Flapper girls.” She began, not looking at him, keeping her eyes on the task at hand. She reached for the sugar bowl. “And we are currently breakfasting in Bedgebury Hall, home to the Earl and Countess of Bedgebury. Your parents…Sugar?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Would you like sugar?”

“Two.” She carefully put two level teaspoons of sugar into his cup and stirred well, then added milk and stirred again.

“Any more milk?”

“No, that’s perfect,” He told her, reaching for his cup, “Explain yourself.”

“Your reputation proceeds you, Sir. I’m not going into this marriage blind. I may be young, and a woman, but I know of your dalliances in dance halls, and fondness for Gentleman’s clubs. Whilst I do not know the ins and out of what goes on in these establishments, I can take a fairly good stab. You may find it acceptable to keep your women waiting, but I do not appreciate that level of disrespect. Next time I’ll dine without you, and you can pour your own tea.” She said her piece calmly and maintained eye-contact as she did, but Thomas noticed a slight twitch in her shoulders and the way she held herself in defiance, but when she speared a piece of fruit on her fork her hand shook slightly. Oh, she was precious.

“My dear girl,” His lips twitched, as he tried to hold back his amusement, “I can assure you, my…what did you call them? London Flapper Girls…do not stay long enough to pour my tea. I save that honour for my staff.”

“Do not laugh at me.” She put her fork down, and stared at him hard. She had spirit this girl, he had to give it to her. Why on earth she’d ever agreed to marry him was beyond him, and how his Mother and Father deemed them good match mystified him. She did not seem compatible for him in the slightest.

“I would never.” He insisted, holding his palm over his chest, but he smiled, “Now I believe you have made your point. You can settle down.”

She gave a small nod, apparently not willing to exercise any more defiance. They continued to eat in a relative silence. Thomas took this opportunity to study his future bride a little more closely. She was quite pretty, he had to credit his parents for that, his biggest fear had been that he may have been expected to lay with someone he did not find attractive. However, Lady Eliza was very easy on the eye. But young, she most definitely was, although the way she spoke regarding his ‘reputation’ suggested she had knowledge beyond her years. He wondered how many of her older brothers conversations she had been privy to.

“When are your parents leaving?” Thomas asked, as he finished eating and lifted the napkin from his lap and scrunched it over his plate.

“My father and his wife are leaving soon, just before lunch.” She told him, her mood having considerably calmed, “I understand we are to become better acquainted?”

“That is also my understanding.” But Thomas made no attempt to suggest how they may achieve this. He knew his Mother and Father would expect him to host her properly. Perhaps take tea with her, or invite her into the village. But he had no intention of doing so.

“Perhaps you could give me a tour of the grounds.”

“Perhaps.”

“I’d love to see your stables.”

“I’m sure we can arrange something, but now I really must be going. I have some business I need to attend to with my Father. We’ll run into one another later on I’m certain.”  Thomas stood from the table, and Eliza quickly moved from her seat to stand with him.

“Oh…I see.” It clearly wasn’t the response she was expecting from him.

“Lady Eliza.” Thomas nodded his dismissal politely.

“My Lord.” She nodded back, and turned swiftly on her heel and strode from the dining room before he could say anything more. Well, she didn’t seem to injured by his evident avoidance to spend any more time than nessisary in her company, in fact she couldn’t wait to get away from him. This realisation filled him with a sense of relief. This would surely be harder is she was some greener than green girl, filled with innocence and expectation and acting all love sick over the idea of marriage to an older Gentleman.

Her attitude needed work, that was certain, but otherwise Thomas felt quite positive that they might at least grow to tolerate each other. The fact that she knew of his proclivities already, meant there was no hiding that side of himself. Lady Eliza’s main fault was not knowing when to keep her smart mouth shut, although he was sure this was something that as her husband he would soon be able to put right.

 

*

 

“Tell me, my dear, how was breakfast?” Lady Diana enquired as she and Eliza relaxed in the sitting room, each holding a hand of cards. Her Father and Step-Mother had left just before lunch, and then the ladies had enjoyed Sandwiches in the dining room, although Eliza was still mostly full from her late breakfast and didn’t eat much at all. Once the table was cleared, Diana had asked her to join her in the sitting room for a game of Gin Rummy. Up until this point no one had asked after her morning with Thomas.

“It was pleasant.” She told her, it was an outright lie, but she wasn’t about to cause a problem by insulting Diana’s son on his time-keeping. She’d been annoyed and she knew she’d spoken out of turn. They were not married yet, and she was a guest in their home, and he was her superior in every respect.

“You didn’t join us until almost half past eleven, so we assumed you must have taken to the gardens?”

“Oh no, we were just talking mostly.”

“And where is he now?”

“I’m not sure. He said he had business with his Father…” She trailed off and bit her lip, “He said we’d run into each other later.”

“Of course.” Diana nodded, but Eliza didn’t miss the concern flash across her features, “Tell me, Eliza, truly, what is your opinion of my son?”

“Oh erm…I’m afraid I really haven’t become well enough acquainted to make a judgement yet. But…he seems…” She shrugged helplessly, she had nothing kind to say about her future husbands character. He was rude, arrogant and if the choice had been her own, he’d have been the last man she’d have chosen to marry. However, she couldn’t deny that physically, he was extremely pleasing. Tall, and lean in build and facially he was rather beautiful, with sharp cheekbones, and the blue of his eyes reminded her of a stormy sea. “He’s very handsome.”

Diana smiled at this assessment of her son, “He is a fine looking man.”

“When might we wed?” A question she’d not asked her father, because she’d been hoping up until her arrival, that he might have second thoughts and call the whole thing off. But now she realised, sitting with Lady Diana Hiddleston, in the opulence of Bedgebury Hall, her father gone, she’d been handed over to this family and there was no way out. She might as well accept that this was happening.

“I wanted to discuss that with you actually. My son will have to officially propose, and we have to announce your engagement to society. Then of course we have to allow for your banns to be read. Depending upon the Vicars availability, we were hoping we could arrange the wedding for no more than six-weeks away.” Diana explained, all very matter of fact.

“Six weeks?” Eliza repeated. That was much sooner than she expected, although she wasn’t sure what she’d expected really. She’d not thought much about the actual wedding at all.

“Now, I also know it is tradition to marry at the brides home, but having discussed with your Father, we agree that we just have so much more room here. We can put up a marquee outside for guests, we have plenty of rooms, and there is an Inn in the village also.” So that was that. Eliza knew that it was very rare for young woman to have a say in how their wedding would happen, but what she hadn’t expected was to have the entire thing decided for her. Who she was marrying, where it would happen and when.

“I…I would like a round cake.” Diana beamed at her future daughters-in-law one request.

“I’m sure that can be arranged. And your Step Mother, she’ll be taking you to have your dress made. I have a designer in London who I’ll telephone in the week.”

“Thank you.” Eliza nodded. But her stomach turned. She’d had enough wedding talk, the reality now setting in. She needed a break. “I was wondering, Diana…well that is…I’ve heard you have an incredible Library here at Bedgebury. May I take a tour?”

“Goodness, yes! Eliza you don’t even need to ask. I’ll have Jane show you the way.”

 

The library at Bedgebury Hall was like something from a dream. If your dreams involved getting lost in a magical cavern of books which dated back hundreds of years. Shelves contained volume upon volume of classic literature, mostly first editions, all in superb condition. The room itself, although not massive, was made up of two levels, the main room and a mezzanine above.

There was a large open fireplace that was currently unlit, and several wing-backed chairs. A desk was situated in front of the window, with a view out onto the pond, then in the centre of the room there was a large antique table, and on top of it an Atlas, currently opened out onto a map of Africa.

Eliza breathed out of sigh of relief when Jane closed the door behind her, she felt like she could suddenly breath again. It occurred to her that, if after less than twenty-four hours in the Hiddleston’s household, she felt so suffocated, that it wasn’t a good sign of what her future would be like. But she couldn’t dwell on that, she was here and she had no choice, so she simply had to make the best of a bad situation. Having unfettered access to this wonderful library was certainly one of the positives she could take from the union. In fact Bedgebury Estate as a whole, from what she’d seen was really quite something, and once she and Thomas were wed, she hoped they would visit often.

She circuited the room fully once, running a finger along the spines of the books, taking note of the different titles, some she recognised, many she didn’t. Eliza liked to consider herself well read, and her parents library at home was well stocked. After her mother died, she would spend hours in the small room, with her head buried in some novel or another. It was her escape. She wondered if Thomas liked reading, and whether he had a library at his London home? Perhaps if he didn’t he’d allow her to create one?

Finally, after spending a little while perusing the vast collection, Eliza selected a book she’d read before, multiple times, in fact. She would possibly say it was her favourite story – Wuthering Heights. It had it all, friendship, forbidden love, death and ghosts. She curled herself up in one of the seats in the far corner of the room, it’s direction facing away from the door, and if she looked up, she could see across the desk and out the window. Eliza slipped off her shoes, and tucked her feet beneath her, and opened straight to chapter fifteen, to the part in which Heathcliff visits Cathy for the last time before her death. Its heart-breaking, but for some reason it had always been Eliza’s favourite bit.

So lost in her reading, she did not hear the door behind her open and close softly, and remained unaware that she was no longer alone in the room, until out of the corner of her eye, she saw a shadow cast over her from behind, and the hairs on the back of her neck bristled. She remained stock still for a second.

“How very tragic.” She knew she was no longer alone, but Thomas’ voice still made her jump. She snapped the book shut and sprung from the chair onto her feet, turning to face him.

“You scared me!”

“Not my intention, I assure you. I was looking for you, Mother said I’d find you here.” Thomas held both his hands up, and did for a fraction of a second look like be might be sincere, “Wuthering Heights… I guessed you might be more into Austen. I must say I’m quite impressed.”

“You like this?” Eliza held the book between both hands.

“Well, it is a classic. Although, I’m much preferring modern literature these days.”

“I like Agatha Christie. I’ve just finished Murder on the Links.”

“Yes, she is rather exciting isn’t she?” Thomas smirked, and circled the chair and approached Lady Eliza, he gently took the book from her hands and then made the short walk to the it’s shelve and put it back in place. Then he fetched another title, and returned to Eliza, handing her the book. She stared at the title.

“Why would you give me this?” she almost snapped her question, struggling to keep her indignity under control.

“You look scandalized? Have you read it?”

“I most certainly have not. My Father and Step Mother would forbid it.”

“What on earth for? It’s highly educational. You could learn from it. Plus it’s got all of the tragedy, love and death which you enjoy so much from Miss Bronte. Yet this is set in an era you can relate to. You may borrow it. Take it to your room.”

“I couldn’t, if Father found out-”

“And what of your future husband? From what I understand, in a few short weeks you’ll no longer answer to your parents. When we are wed, I would actively encourage you to read a variety of literature, especially if it…expands your limited knowledge in certain areas.” Eliza felt her cheeks heating up, at what he was suggesting. So instead of arguing she folded her arms around the clothbound book he’d bestowed her with and tried to change the subject.  

“You said you were looking for me?”

“Yes, of course. You see, I’ve been informed that our engagement will be announced this week. So it’s only right that I give you this.” Thomas’ hand delved into his pocket and he produced a ring. A stunning yellow gold band, topped with a three point diamond, flanked by two shoulder single point diamonds. Eliza felt the breath catch in her throat.

“Oh. It’s beautiful.”

“It belonged to my grandmother.” He held a hand out, and beckoned her with his fingers, “May I?”

Hesitantly, Eliza set the book down on the arm chair and stepped up to Thomas, with a hand out-stretched. He took her hand in his, much more gently than she was expecting, and carefully slid the ring onto her finger. It was almost a perfect fit, just the slightest bit lose but she knew that could be altered. It really was a stunning piece of jewellery.

“Lady Eliza Cottingham, please accept this ring as my proposal of marriage.” The words that left his lips were clearly strained and Eliza didn’t have to ask, to know that he was there because his Mother and Father had sent him to her, and orders to ask for her hand. It was not the romantic gesture she’d dreamt of as a little girl, like the ones she’d read about in books. Tom was not down on one knee, with eyes full of love and tenderness for his future bride.

“Thank you, my Lord. I accept your proposal.”  


	4. FOUR

“Lizzy, what’s going on? Marjorie just told me today’s your last day helping out?” Lady Eliza looked up from her place at the large sink, she was washing up after a busy lunch run at the Shelter. She’d broken the news to dear old Marjorie that morning that she would soon be wed and her priorities, unfortunately would have to change. Marjorie was sad, but also excited for her, however Eliza didn’t want a fuss. She begged Marjorie not to tell anyone before she got the chance to do so herself.

Now Joseph approached her with his brow furrowed in concern. He was a sweet man, and her first friend at the Shelter when she turned up on their doorstep asking if there was anything she could do to help. He was Marjorie’s nephew and his family owned a bakery in London. He took off his grey tweed flat cap and ruffled a hand through has sandy blonde hair, eyes imploring hers for an explanation.

“Joe...I’m sorry. I wanted to tell you myself...” She bit her lip, he looked completely heartbroken by the news.

“Why, Lizzy? I thought you loved it here?”

“I do, Joe. You know I do...It’s just...I’m getting married.”

“Married?” his eyes turned into saucers.

“Yes, in three-weeks’ time and...Well my fiancé, he would prefer me not to come here anymore. I’ll have a house to look after.” A lump rose to her throat, saying it all out loud made it feel all the more real. Thomas had asked very little of her when it came to her transition to becoming his wife, but the one thing he’d made very clear to her was that her time at the Shelter would cease. She understood why, and although everything in her heart told her to fight it, she was smart enough to know it was a lost battle. Lord Thomas Hiddleston, was for all intents and purpose, a reputable business man, he moved in the highest of social circles. Although her own family were not without repute, she’d lived relatively unnoticed in the shadows of her brothers, but that would no longer be the case.

She dried her hands and dipped into the pocket of her pinafore and retrieved the ring Thomas had bestowed upon her, she’d only removed it for save keeping. She slid it back onto her finger, and held her hand out to Joseph with a small smile. He took her fingertips in his hands and studied the fine piece of jewellery.

“Goodness, Lizzy. I…I don’t know what to say. I didn’t even know you were courting someone? You never said.” Joseph dropped her hand, and if she wasn’t mistaken his eyes had misted up a little. She had no idea her presence at the Shelter meant that much to him. They were friends sure, he was very funny and often had her in stiches, and when she visited her brothers families in London she had stopped by the bakery once or twice. His family were wonderful.

“Well, we kept it very quiet. It’s not been long.”

“He…he is a very lucky man. Tell me of him? Is he good to you?”

“His father is one of my Daddy’s oldest friends. You might have heard the name. Hiddleston?” Eliza flexed her fingers and looked at the ring once more, avoiding Joseph’s eyes. Then she tucked her hands back into the pocket of her pinny.

“Lord Thomas Hiddleston? Are you kidding? Obviously I’ve heard of him. Bloody hell, Lizzy! He’s practically royalty.”

“Shush, shush.” She waved her hand to quiet him down, not wanting to draw attention, “He’s not, he really isn’t.”

“Do you really love him, Lizzy?” he lowered his voice and he stepped closer, dipping his head so he could look her right in the eye, “You’re doing this because you want to? I’ll only be happy for you, if you tell me it’s what you really want.”

“Oh, Joe.” She sighed, and closed her eyes, blinking back the sting of tears. Why did he have to ask that? “You’re a good man, you know that? You’re also smart. You know girls like me… it doesn’t really matter what I want. I must get married, this is the best offer I’m ever going to get.”

“Don’t say that Lizzy! That’s not true.” Joseph cried, and Eliza stepped back, thrown by his outburst and a little scared if she was honest. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…oh Lizzy, I’d have asked you.”

“Excuse me?” Was he suggesting what she thought he was suggesting?

“I should have said something sooner, I wish I had. I wanted to, but… well I wasn’t man enough I suppose. I love you, Lizzy. That…that’s it really. I love you.” Joseph’s blue eyes were bright and sincere, and he looked at her almost pleading. He loved her? Well that was definitely news to her.

She was flattered, certainly. But she didn’t feel the same way. Joe was a friend, nothing more, and although not unhandsome, she’d never felt herself physically drawn to him. Although given a choice she’d pick him over Thomas any day, but that would literally be the worst reason to marry someone. Also, even if she weren’t engaged to Thomas, and Joe had plucked up the courage to ask to court her first, her father would never have allowed it. Joseph was a lovely man, sweet, kind and hard working. But he had nothing to offer her. She would have never have been allowed to marry into a working class family.

“Joe…I’m…I’m flattered, really I am.”

“But you don’t feel the same way?”

“No. I’m sorry.”

“Of course.”

“I’ll visit. Also I’ll be living in London, so I’ll be sure to always buy our bread from your families Bakery. You’ll still see me.” Eliza reached out and touched his hand gently, “You’ll still be my friend?”

“Always, Lizzy.”

That had been three weeks ago, and Eliza had been eaten up with guilt ever since. Poor Joe, she’d broken his heart and she hadn’t even meant to. He’d been so good about it too. But when she said goodbye that day, he’d not congratulated her, and she hadn’t seen or heard from him since.

The weeks that followed had been quite full on. She’d spent a lot of time with her Step-Mother in London. They’d visited Diana’s dress maker, and she’d had every inch of her body measured. Then they’d discussed designs and chosen fabrics. Actually, that part had been quite enjoyable, putting the whole wedding aside, Eliza did enjoy fashion, and having free run with a professional designer to put together her dream dress had been a ball.

She’d also seen Thomas again. Their engagement was announced in the paper, and their families insisted that it was important that they been seen together, not to mention the fact that really they didn’t know each other at all and they were about to get married. Eliza had hoped for an invitation to Thomas’ London home, she’d have liked to have seen where she would be living before she moved in. Although Daphne had told her it would not be proper for her to be alone in his house without a chaperone.

They did have dinner together at Rules in Covent Garden, although Eliza had been more excited about the experience its self, hoping to catch a glimpse of a celebrity, she’d heard Charlie Chaplin dined there regularly. She didn’t see anyone famous, but the food had been lovely and Thomas had been fairly pleasant company. He spoke more than he had on their first encounter, he asked her about her education, and they spoke of their favourite foods. However, when the evening ended, he was obviously relieved and couldn’t wait to see her into her waiting car. There had been no pleasantries, she wondered if he might kiss her cheek, or her hand at least? But neither happened, instead, he simply allowed her to climb in the back seat, he shut the door behind her and walked briskly away.

After that, she only saw him once more. They’d met for afternoon tea at the Savoy, but it had not been a pleasant affair. Thomas had been late, and then he’d hardly spoken to her as they ate and drank, and then before their server had even finished clearing their table, he’d made his excuses about ‘getting back to the office’ and left her alone. Eliza’s account of his behaviour had caused her step-mother much distress, and Eliza had, had to beg her not to say anything to his parents. The last thing she wanted was Thomas getting in trouble because of her.

But now she was being assisted into a beautiful Horse Drawn Carriage, along with her father who couldn’t stop smiling. He’d cried when she’d emerged from the Bridal Suite at the Broome Park Hotel. He’d gripped her hands and told her how beautiful she was, and how proud he was of her. He also promised no matter what she’d always be his little girl. Eliza had wanted to cry, but she was quite sure she’d run out of tears. She’d spent the night before her wedding sobbing herself to sleep.

Although she’d agreed to this arrangement, it was only because she knew she had no choice, if she’d refused Tom, it would have been someone else. Her brothers though had not been as calm as she about their fathers decision. She was their baby sister after all, and if it was up to any of them she wouldn’t marry at all. Over the past weeks all six of her brothers had fought her corner vehemently, but it made no difference. She’d already accepted Thomas’ proposal. There was no backing out now.  

 

*

 

“Your car is ready, My Lord.” Mr Wilson watched Thomas as he stood in front of the bedroom mirror. He fixed his jacket and touched the white rose button hole gently. Wilson coughed, realising the younger Lord Hiddleston had not heard his address, seemingly in his own little world, “Thomas? Sir?”

“Yes, Wilson?” Thomas picked up a tumbler of Scotch off the sideboard on took a sip as he turned to the Butler, eyebrows raised in acknowledgement.

“Your car, Sir. Johnson is ready for you. Your parents have gone on ahead to the church.”

“Thank you, Wilson.” Thomas drained the glass and Mr. Wilson took it from his hand and held his free arm out to the side to gesture for Thomas to make his way downstairs, “Tell me, Wilson…my sisters?”

“They left in a car behind your parents, sir. They look beautiful, as do your nieces.”

“Delightful.” Thomas nodded, pausing at the bannister, looking over to see the house hold staff lining the lobby, awaiting his departure. He gripped the wooden bar, and took a shaky breath. Alone, completely and utterly alone, his mother has snuck into his room briefly to give him a pointless little pep talk, but otherwise his family had left him alone all morning. Matthew Adley, his best man, his dear friend from his school days had drunk with him into the night, but hadn’t been into him that morning. He was likely out by the car with Johnson making small talk.

It was his own fault. This morning he’d refused to breakfast with the family, following another altercation with his father the night before. He’d made it no secret over the weeks leading up to the wedding that although he’d (albeit reluctantly) made the decision to propose to Lady Eliza, he absolutely did not want to marry her, and was only doing so because his parents had given him no other choice.

Having his entire family turn up the night before, and his Mother insisting upon a celebratory meal had not been how he’d wished to spend his last evening of freedom. Although not unexpected, it was the done thing. But Thomas was on edge and not in the mood for his father’s lectures, his sisters questions, or his nieces excitement at the prospect of being flower girls.

It had culminated in his snapping at his younger sister for asking too many questions about her future sister-in-law, and in turn his father shouting at him. Thomas had left the table abruptly and demanded to be left alone. Then Matthew had knocked on his bedroom door moments later, bottle of his favourite whiskey in hand and insisting that he’d feel much better after a stiff drink.

Thomas was paying for that decision now. His head was pounding, and he’d been sick upon waking up. He’d already started drinking again, with the hope that either ‘hair of the dog’ might ease his hangover, or he’d start getting drunk again so as the whole ordeal might be slightly less painful.

“Are you quite well, My Lord?” Wilson addressed him properly, even with it just being them two at the top of the staircase, this was a formal occasion after all.

“Hmm?”

“You look quite pale, Sir.”

“You were married, Wilson?” Thomas knew he had been, Mr Wilson’s wife had worked for the family also, although Tom didn’t know her well.

“I was Sir, thirty-seven years. Been widowed coming up thirteen years now. You remember my Elsie?”

“I do, she worked in our kitchens.” The older man smiled, “What is it like?”

“Marriage?” Thomas nodded, “I loved my Elsie, Thomas. She was the light of my life. Marriage isn’t easy, all relationships take work. I don’t regret a day of it though, even the harder times. What I wouldn’t give to get one more day with her.”

“What do you think of Lady Eliza?”

“May I speak freely, Thomas?”

“Please do.”

“I think you and the Lady have more in common that you recognise.” Thomas almost scoffed, but held himself back, he’d asked the question after all. “I also think she will be a force to the reckoned with, and between you, you could be quite the formidable couple, if you’ll allow.” Thomas frowned and looked up from where his gaze had dropped to the wood flooring. He most certainly would not allow.

“Thank you, Wilson.” Thomas nodded curtly, “Well let’s go and get this thing over with then.”

 

“About time my friend, I was beginning to think you’d bottled out.” Matthew slapped his hand to Thomas' shoulder in greeting.

“Chance would be a fine thing.” Thomas grumbled and only briefly acknowledged Mr. Johnson with a nod of his head before climbing into the car through the door his driver held open. Matthew got in after him and the door click shut behind them.  

“You do remember what I told you last night?” Matthew began, but Thomas stared out he window, truthfully he had no idea what his friend had told him last night? He’d been completely pie-eyed by the time had fallen into bed, “Tommy, marriage isn’t as bad as all that. I didn’t know Florence that well when we married, you recall?”

“But you knew her, you liked her, you chose her. You wanted to marry.” Matthew and his wife had been married almost ten years. Like Thomas and Eliza it had been more or less orchestrated by their families. But Matthew had, had more choice. Matthew didn’t know about James Hiddleston’s Will or what was as stake for Thomas if he refused this arrangement.

“Well yes, but it was still daunting. But you know I don’t see her all that often. She’s always out and about with her girlfriends and social circles. That’s what it’s like you know. And it’s not half bad having a nice warm place to nestle your cock on the regular.” Thomas looked round at that, “That got your attention didn’t it?”

“Vile.” Was all Thomas said.

“I’ve heard she’s a pretty thing. Your Eliza. You said last night you were looking forward to sink-"

“Enough.” Thomas was starting to feel quite sick and he was sure if it was the topic of conversation or the combination of too much Scotch and the bumpy gravel drive.

“Just wait and see. You’ll soon change your tune.”

“I doubt it.”

 

Thomas arrived at the church and was met by the Vicar and his parents. It was a test of his wills to make polite conversation with his guests whilst they awaited the arrival of his bride. He greeted Lady Cottingham and shook hands with all six of Eliza's brothers, but didn’t miss their sour looks. Apparently they were as adverse to this union as he was. However, they remained civil and for that he was quite relieved. After all, it would not do to get on the bad side of six disgruntled older brothers. For now it seemed Eliza had spoken nothing but kindness of him and considering how aloof he’d been with her in their few meetings he couldn’t help but feel grateful to her for that fact.

Then he was being told to take his place as the end of the aisle, and the Organist started up. Thomas stood stock still with his back to the congregation as the church doors opened and his bride entered the holy building. It was only when Matthew nudged him did he glance round to see the young woman, his soon to be wife, being lead up the aisle towards him.

She was sheathed entirely in white, a long veil covered her face and fell down her back floating along with the train of her dress. The ensemble in its self was really quite something, a long satin gown, which hitched up at the front to just above her ankles but at the back trailed along behind her for a couple of feet. The sides were ruched prettily enhancing her feminine curves. She looked almost angelic as she drifted down the aisle on her father’s arm to meet him.

His head swam as the Vicar mumbled some words to Lord Cottingham and then, Lady Eliza’s hands were placed in his. Her fingers wrapped around his and she was holding on much tighter than he expected her to. Then everything just sort of happened.

Hymns were sung, prayers were read, vows were made. Then and only then did Thomas let go of her hands, just so he could lift her veil as instructed by the vicar. When he did he was met by big green eyes staring up at him, mirroring all the anxiety and uncertainty he felt inside. He leant in and bestowed a single kiss upon her cheek. Then he took her hand again, and didn’t let go until they were safely in the back of the car and driving away from the church.


	5. FIVE

“I’m so relieved that’s over, aren’t you?” Lady Eliza asked as the car pulled away from the church and they started the short drive back to Bedgebury Hall. Thomas had since released her hand which was now clammy. He stared out the window and didn’t answer. Eliza pursed her lips, wondering if he was being purposely obtuse. In the church they’d not spoken to one another, save for their vows, but he had allowed her to hold tightly onto his hands. She’d felt sick, making promises to this man. To love and honour him, to care for him in sickness and in health. He made them back and he’d looked at her as he did, but she couldn’t help but wonder if he meant the promises he was making to her. It occurred to her that in that moment they really only had each other. She decided to continue.

“You know I was so nervous walking down that aisle with all those people looking, I actually threw up in my mouth a little bit!”

Thomas’ head snapped round, “You’re jesting?”

“No! Honestly, I was scared I might trip over my own feet and embarrass myself.”

“You did fine, Lady Eliza.”

“You can just call me Eliza you know, I said before. We’re married now.”

“We are.”

“May I call you Thomas?”

“You may.” She nodded and studied him for a moment, she noted his slightly peculiar behaviour. He swayed in his seat a little, and his eyes were darker than normal. It was quite obvious he’d been drinking, and it explained the blank look on his face as he’d repeated the vicars words and made his vows to her.

“Are you drunk?”

“I beg your pardon?” A laugh caught in his throat and he ended up scoffing.

“I asked if you’re drunk? Your pupils are really dilated, and you seem a bit like you’re somewhere else?”

“I’m not drunk. Not that it would concern you if I was.”

“Excuse me? In what way does it not concern me? We just got married, did we not?” Eliza retorted, unable to help herself. She slid closer to Thomas, until her satin covered thigh pressed against his, and he looked at her strangely as she leant into him and sniffed, “You smell like a distillery.”

“Are you completely intent on harping on about my drinking habits? As I can assure you they won’t change so you had better get used to it now.” Thomas practically snarled in her face.

She stared are at him for a moment, determined not to let him get to her, “There’s no need to be nasty. I was making an observation.”

“Well I’d rather from here on out, you refrain from making any more observations of my behaviour.”

“Fine.” She turned her head and looked out the other window and quiet fell between them. She could feel he eyes on her though. Did he have to be so nasty? She wasn’t stupid, she knew he’d not wanted to marry her, men like Thomas didn’t want to marry full stop. He was a happy bachelor. But it didn’t mean he had to do his utmost to make her life miserable. She felt the sting of tears, realising that she would have to get used to being spoken to like this.

“Eliza.” Her name left his lips, and his tone was a little gentler now. Like he’d perhaps considered his words. She was still cross though and she desperately wanted to ignore him, but then she’d heard what happened to wives who defied their husbands and thought better of it, “Look at me.”

She turned her head and Thomas had his hand held out to her. Hesitantly she placed her hand in his and he gave it a gentle squeeze, “I shouldn’t have snapped,” He admitted, “I admit I was nervous too, I had a few fingers before I left for the church.” She nodded her acceptance of his apology, “Come back here?”

“Why?”

“Just come here.” Without further argument, she slid back across the leather seat, and glanced forward through the window of the partition to see the drivers eyes firmly on the road, as the car turned and pulled onto the driveway of the Bedgebury Estate. She looked back to Thomas, whose eyes searched hers for a moment. Then the hand which wasn’t holding hers, moved up to her face and he cupped her cheek, then to her utter surprise, he closed the space between them and pressed his mouth to hers.

Eliza almost squeaked in surprise but managed to stifle her shock well, although she didn’t really know what to do. Thomas kissing her was the very last thing she expected, which seemed silly really given the fact they’d just married. He was gentler with her than she thought he might be, although call itself self-preservation, she’d not actually considered what affection from her new husband may feel like. She kissed back best she could moving her lips against his, but definitely letting him lead. It felt like it lasted hours, but in reality it was just a few seconds before Lord Thomas pulled back from his new bride. He flashed her the smallest of reassuring smiles, as the car pulled up in front of the main house and the door was opened for them.

Well as far as first kisses went, Eliza thought it was surprisingly pleasant. She wouldn’t mind doing it again. But before she could entertain the idea of addressing this thought to Thomas he was out of the car and holding his hand out for her to take. She slid along the seat until she could touch her heels to the ground and allowed him to assist her out the car.

 

*

 

Nine hours and thirty-seven minutes. Thomas glanced up at the clock above the mantle in the ballroom. That was how long it had been since he'd said words he didn’t mean (and could scarcely remember now that he thought about it) to a woman he didn’t love, or know for that matter. Every second since stepping out the car with her he’d felt burdened with a sense of something and he wasn’t sure what? Regret? Guilt? A responsibility he didn’t want.

The truth was, apart from the few times which called for it, he'd hardly seen his new wife since they arrived at Bedgebury Hall for the reception. They sat next to each other at dinner, and both of them ate in silence. Speeches lasted forever and Thomas proceeded to tilt his glass at the server for refills of wine and get himself steadily more intoxicated until just after dinner when he stumbled his way to one of the more remote bathrooms and emptied his stomach into the basin. Then as if he’d anticipated it, Wilson was at the door with a strong black coffee in hand.

When had returned to the party little over an hour later no one seemed to notice his disappearance, but he was just in time for cutting the cake and then sharing a dance with Eliza. Their first dance as husband and wife and as far as Thomas was concerned, their last. He’d not even been able to look at the young woman in his arms as they performed a simple traditional Waltz, which he regretting not practising with her before he big day, like his mother had suggested. Although considering his still inebriated state, it wouldn’t have made much difference. Thomas was an accomplished dancer, and apparently so was Eliza, but he stumbled several times, and he was relieved when the music ended and the next song began. Lord Cottingham took his daughter from him, and Thomas made a hasty retreat to the nearest waiter to furnish himself with another drink. God did he need it.

“I’m sorry, Sir. Your father has advised we aren’t to serve you another drink.” The waiters words trembled from his mouth, and Thomas narrowed his eyes.

“Excuse me?”

“Your Father said, I’m awfully sorry, I could…I could fetch you some fresh water, or a coffee?”

“I don’t want a blasted coffee.” Thomas barked at the poor boy.

“I…I…” The waiter stuttered.

“Tommy,” It was his Mother, her hand rested on his forearm, “Leave poor Edward alone, he’s doing as he’s been told. Why don’t you come and give your Mother a dance?”

“I don’t want a dance. I want a drink, it’s my fucking wedding day, shouldn’t a man be able to drink whatever the hell he wants on his wedding day?” Thomas threw his arms up in exasperation, and gave his Mother a pleading look. Too much, this was all just too much for him to deal with.

“Come on, dance with me.” So he did, he danced with his Mother, and his sisters, and he even danced with both of his nieces who were delighted that their uncle was finally paying them some attention. But he was exhausted, and honestly wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep up the act, but weddings seemed to go on late into the night, although the party had calmed down, guests were still circulating the main hall, and marquee outside. He couldn’t just leave. Not without Eliza at least, and that was a whole other bridge he had to cross.

So he went looking for his bride, intent on taking her to bed and doing what needed to be done, so he could go to sleep and end what seemed like the longest day of his entire life. It took him a while to find her, the alcohol was wearing off, but his brain was still frazzled. He staggered the grounds for a while, and checked in multiple rooms. Then he caught sight of her, across the lawns, the white of her dress caught his eye. She sat on the edge of the fountain, glass of wine in hand with two other women. He vaguely recognised them as wives of her brothers who he’d met earlier in the day. He approached slowly, the small group of ladies unaware of his presence.

“You know, I’m quite envious, he’s very handsome.”

“You shouldn’t say that, you’re married to my brother.” Eliza's giggles filled the air and Thomas saw her sway a little in her seat, she’d clearly been enjoying the drink on offer also. He couldn’t blame her.

“Does it worry you? His reputation?” one of the ladies asked, her tone hushed and she held a hand up to her mouth aware someone could overhear. Someone like him. But he was curious to what her answer would be so he slowed and stayed out of sight for a moment waiting to find out what she would say about him.

“I’m not naive enough to think that the rumours have been exaggerated, but I refuse to allow myself to judge him entirely on what others say. But the truth is...I’m not sure what I should be worried about? I don’t think marriage is about to make a changed man out of him, but I don’t believe Daddy would allow me to marry a man he didn’t think would take care of me. I have to trust him, otherwise...I could drive myself mad.” She was serious as she spoke and then, another giggle left her lips and in the moonlight he could see her mouth curve up in a pretty smile, “Besides, isn’t there something to be said for a man with experience?”

“Lizzy!” one sister-in-law squealed whilst he other gasped and threw a hand over her mouth. Thomas decided now was the time to intervene and take his wife away to their bridal suite.

He strode out from the shadows of he trees in his usual confident manner.

“Lady Eliza.” He greeted her and almost delighted in the way that she sprung from her place on the concrete ledge and her fingers tightened around the stem of her glass. Then he turned to her in-laws, “Ladies.” He nodded and the three girls looked as each other, the two older women stifled their laughter in his presence 

“My Lord.” His new wife bobbed her head, and smiled at him. She seemed in good spirits, although that might be about to change.

“I was looking for you. It’s time to bid our guests goodnight.” He informed her, holding an arm out for her to take, which she did without hesitation. He was pleased she didn’t argue, and if he wasn’t mistaken she looked relieved. But her words counteracted this notion.

“Already?” She asked.

“I’m afraid so. It’s almost midnight and tomorrow we travel back to London."

“Of course. May I hug my sisters?” She tugged her arm away from him and he relented, watching as both of the women took their turns hugging her tightly and each whispering sentiments her ear. He wished he knew what they were saying to her.

“Walk back to the house with us, ladies. I should see you safely back to your husbands.” Thomas offered, appearing ever the gentlemen. Both women glanced at one another and nodded, linking arms to walk back across the lawns with the newlyweds.

Once back at the house Thomas informed his Mother that he and his bride would like to retire for the evening and very quickly it was announced for the guests to gather and wish them goodnight. This in its self was  lengthy process. With over one hundred people in attendance many of whom Thomas was certain he’d never met in his life, there was much handshaking, cheek kissing and hugging, particularly when Eliza bit her father and brothers goodnight. He didn’t miss the vicious glares from each and every one of the Cottingham brothers as he led his bride away from her family.

 

 

Thomas allowed her to hold onto his arm as they climbed the staircase and headed along the main upstairs hall, in the opposite direction to the room Eliza had occupied on her last visit to Bedgebury. Now she would be retiring to the same room as her husband. A new kind of nervousness settled over her.

She had truthfully exhaled a discreet sigh of relief when Thomas had told her the day had come to an end. She was exhausted, physically from her early start being primped and primed for the big day, from being on her feet for the vast majority of it and from basically being passed from pillar to post for introductions, dances and usual wedding formalities. But emotionally she felt ready to drop too. It really had all been too much for her, the fake smiles and laughter when inside all she wanted to do was curl up and cry. She was married, to an awful man who didn’t love her and she held no affection towards him either, it had been less than a day and she already felt completely suffocated, how would she last the rest of her life?

Now it was just her and Thomas she could stop worrying about their audience downstairs, and start worrying about what would happen next, once the bedroom door closed behind them. Would he want to consummate their marriage tonight? She’d spoken to her sister-in-law’s. She knew she probably shouldn’t but she really had no one else. They had told her many people didn’t these days and it didn’t matter if it didn’t happen immediately although Eliza sort of wanted it to. She wanted the ordeal over and done with. Knowing Thomas’ proclivities she assumed no matter if he liked her or not, his attentions would be frequent.

His kiss in the car had confused her some what, although he’d mostly ignored her since, it had felt genuine. But what did she know really? After snapping at her he’d been sweet and gentle, and up until that point she’d been on the defensive, unsure how, when the time came, he might treat her at her most vulnerable.

Her brothers wives had given her lots of advice. Clara had told her confidence was key, and Eliza was good at confidence. She was not to let him see how scared she was, men liked a confident woman and the more relaxed she was the more she might enjoy it. Alice admitted it was difficult for her to advise on the matter, and admitted that in fact she and George had done the deed months before they tied the knot. The moment her father had blessed their engagement. It was different though, they’d courted for a long time and were truly very much in love. However, it was still seen as highly improper for a lady to lose her virtue before she was wed.

Thomas brushed off her hand from his arm as they reached the large oak door at the end of the hall and she felt lost. She had no idea what she was meant to be doing and desperately tried to maintain the air of actually knowing exactly what she was doing at the same time. Her husband pushed the door open and didn’t hold it for her to enter first, instead strode in front of her and Eliza stopped dead in the doorway, with a hand flat against the panelled door. They were not alone, waiting for them were two house staff she did not recognise. Although she noted Thomas acknowledged the man immediately. His Valet?

“Shut the door.” Thomas instructed without looking at her. Instead he walked straight to the man waiting by the dresser on the far side. He shrugged off his tailcoat and the man took it from him.

“Lady Hiddleston?” the sweet voice of the young woman in the doorway of the dressing room called her.

“Who are you?” She’d not anticipated company, and it had completely thrown her. She immediately chastised herself for coming off as rude.  

“My name is Miss. Jones, my Lady. I’m here to help you from your dress and into your nightclothes. Please come through.” The girl, who couldn’t have been older than sixteen gestured into the room to her right.

“What is your given name, Miss Jones?” Eliza asked, letting the door close behind her, she glanced only briefly at her husband who was removing his cufflinks and placing them in the waiting palm of his help.

“Erm…Jenny…Mam.” The girl looked a bit nervous now.

“Thank you, Jenny, but I’ll not be requiring your assistance, please leave…and your colleague. I would like to be alone with my husband.” Eliza instructed, trying to be as polite as possible, after all Jenny was just doing her job.

“I’m sorry, I-” But the nervous girl didn’t get chance to finish as she was cut off by Thomas.

“Eliza, what on earth is the matter?”

“I don’t require help getting ready for bed.” Eliza explained.

“Don’t be difficult, darling.” Thomas told her, voice stiff.

“I don’t think I am being difficult. It’s our wedding night, the only person helping me out of this dress should be you!” There we go, that felt better, she held her head high. Confidence, just like Clara had told her. Thomas’ lips curled in a small, and very brief smile, before turning to his Valet.

“That’ll be all, Mr Clarke. My wife and I will manage this evening.” Eliza kept her expression stony, but inside she was cheering, her first battle won. It was a matter of principle more than anything, she’d made it clear on numerous occasions to her Step-Mother and to Thomas’ Mother that she preferred to look after herself, “Miss Jones, was it?” The girl nodded, “You heard Lady Hiddleston, you may leave. Thank you.”

Both members of staff nodded their goodnights and left the room. Finally the newlyweds were completely alone. They’d not been so isolated together since that afternoon in the library.

“You realise, Eliza, what you just did will cause quite the stir downstairs?” Thomas informed her, as he slipped his braces from his shoulders and let them fall down by his thighs, he approached her slowly, almost stalking across the room towards her.

“I don’t care.” She kept her back straight and refused to look away from him. He studied her with a frown etched into his brow, despite how very vulnerable she felt under her gaze she refused to be shaken by him. So when he made it within reaching distance she bravely closed the gap and placed both palms on his pectorals. She tip-toed enough to move in and press her lips to his in a chaste kiss, and when she broke away asked, “Tell me, Thomas. Just how drunk are you?”

“Drunk enough.” Was his simple reply, “Turn around.” So she did, and his fingers were at the buttons at her neck, slipping the tiny pearl like balls through the delicate loops which fastened the dress. Her heart pounded against her rib cage and whilst he couldn’t see her face she took several big gulps of air to steady her nerves. This was it.

 

 

He’d not expected her to be as forward as this. There had been a small part of him which hoped she might just dress for bed, slip beneath the sheets and turn her back on him. It was not that he didn’t find her attractive, although a far cry from his usual type, she really was a stunning young woman. But he’d wanted to maintain some level of control over the situation and right now she was making that quite difficult for him.

Thomas wasn’t sure if his young wife realised quite what a little seductress she was. That whole episode with the staff, and her insisting that he should be the one undressing her on their wedding night had, had him straining in his underwear. Under normal circumstances he found her tenaciousness most frustrating, but for some reason, perhaps it was a combination of champagne and stress, and the desperate need to relieve some of his pent up frustration, he was decidedly turned on by her devil may care attitude. The way she shunned social norms, fought for her independence and really didn’t care what she said or what people thought of her, all the time maintaining the presentation of a lady. All the parts of her character he fully intended to change once she was out and on his arm, but he’d let her enjoy it tonight.

He fumbled a little with the fiddly buttons down her back, until a hidden zip was revealed, he grasped the tiny metal pull, and moved it down carefully and he fabric fell apart giving him his first glimpse of her clear, creamy skin.

“There.” He said eventually, letting go of the zip, and turning her back round with his hands.

“Thank you.” She nodded, and moved and eyed him carefully and he couldn’t take his eyes off her as she reached for the shoulders of her gown and tugged it so it slid from her shoulders, skimmed her hips and pooled at the floor around her feet, still encased in heels and ivory stockings. Christ, she looked good enough to eat.

Eliza stepped carefully out of her dress and took a step closer to the huge four poster bed filling the centre of the room, all the while her eyes not leaving his. He found himself moving with her slowly like some gravitational pull. The lingerie she wore was ivory like her dress. A delicate applique bralette on her top half, and matching skirted briefs, Thomas had seen his fair share of lingerie, but never before had something quite so innocent, look so very appealing. She perched on the edge of the bed and reached down, slipping her shoes from her feet, and Thomas came to a stop before her, and he reached his own shirt buttons, slipping them open until he was able to devest himself of the garment.

“Get on the bed.” He instructed firmly, finally finding his voice. She grinned, outwardly encouraged by his reaction to what he saw beneath her dress. She twisted herself and crawled up the bed, until she reached the mountain of pillows, then she sat up, tucking her feet beneath her and waited for him.

Very quickly he kicked off his own shoes and peeled off his socks. Then unfastened and pushed his trousers over his hips, discarding them quickly too, leaving him only his white cotton undergarments. He smirked when he saw that Eliza’s eyes were transfixed to his body, running over him, and trying to see every inch. Her eyes hovered for a second longer over the hard outline of his cock, and he noticed her cheeks pink a touch. Then he was on the bed with her, crawling over to her and pushing her onto her back. Her head landed on the pillow with a thump and a giggle escaped her lips.

“Should I get under the covers?” She asked.

“I don’t care.”

“Okay.” She moved away from him, sitting up enough to tug back the sheets and slip beneath. Thomas exhaled impatiently, as she shifted about getting comfortable, removing her briefs and dropping them next to the bed. “I’m ready.” She told him, her inexperience was practically screaming at him. Thomas rolled his eyes, and pushed down his own underpants, not making any effort to hide himself from her. But she looked away, tipping her head slightly to her right, whist he got under the sheets with her.

He kissed her again, not on the lips though, but near them, and let his hands roam her body, starting at her hips, then up briefly over her lace covered breasts. It seemed the confidence she’d displayed moments before had suddenly escaped her, and he felt her stiffen beneath his wondering hands as he pinched a nipple, teasing it to a little peak, still hidden from his view. But he didn’t really care.

Then he distracted her with another kiss to the mouth when he let his hand drop quickly to the place between her legs. Her thighs were pressed together and it took a bit of effort to force them apart and finally, touch her there.

 

 

She sort of stopped kissing back, when his fingers dug into her inner thigh, forcing her legs apart. He could have asked, but he didn’t. But once she got the hint of what he wanted, she allowed them to open enough to allow him access.

She was no shrinking violet. She knew what sex was, she knew what it involved, what went where so to speak. She’d read about it in books, she’d asked her sister-in-law’s questions, but their answers weren’t all that detailed, and somewhat contradictory. Whilst Clara claimed to enjoy intimacy with her husband immensely, Alice was much more reserved about the topic. She’d told her it would be a little uncomfortable the first time, and to try and relax, and to let her new husband lead, after all, he would know what he was doing.

But what Thomas was doing to her now felt strange. It felt alien to have some ones hands between her legs which were not her own, and even then for her it was only ever to wash, and once or twice feel down there out of curiosity. That was more so recently, knowing what was coming, to gain a better understanding of what would be going where.

“Wider.” Thomas nudged her thigh again, and obediently she moved her right leg outwards, but it didn’t seem like that was what he wanted, “Bend your knee, relax your leg.” The words fell from her husbands mouth lazily, like this was obvious and he really couldn’t be bothered giving her a step by step on what she was to do for him. So she bent her knee and leg her leg fall to the side. Thomas’ fingers probed her folds, in an investigatory manner. He rubbed something near the top, just were her lady parts began and it felt a little uncomfortable, so she shifted beneath him. Then he found her entrance, and she almost jumped right off the bed when he forced one finger inside of her, moving it around a bit, then withdrawing entirely. Then he stopped touching her, and his hand retracted from beneath the covers and to her utmost horror stopped in front of her face.

Thomas’ fingers, the ones which were just touching her most intimate area, were now hovering over her lips, “Suck.”

“What?” The disgust in her voice, and etched all over her face was obvious. What did he want her to do? Was this normal? He’d just had his fingers inside of her, and now he wanted her to take them in his mouth.

“Suck. Wet my fingers with your saliva, you’re as dry as a bone down there.” He wasn’t looking directly at her, and his tone brooked no argument. So reluctantly she opened her mouth and Thomas put two fingers on her tongue. He waited until she’d swirled her tongue a few times, coating the digits in her own spittle. She’d felt sick at the idea of tasting herself like that, but to her surprise she barely tasted anything other than Thomas’ own skin, and maybe a hint of something else, a little salty and a little sweet. Finally his withdrew his fingers and muttered, “Good girl,” beneath his breath.

Then his hand disappeared down there again, and this time his mouth latched onto her neck, kissing, and sucking whilst his fingers explored her more thoroughly. It wasn’t quite as uncomfortable this time, as his finger rubbed that little nub at the top, she jolted gently as an odd warmth shot through her nether regions.

Then he was slipping a finger back inside her, and followed it quickly with a second and he pumped those two digits in and out. She wasn’t sure why, other than common sense telling her this was him preparing her for what he was about to do. She wished he would explain to her, talk to her at least, reassure her or something, but she knew he’d drunk too much alcohol to really converse sensibly with her. At least he seemed to sober enough to know what he was doing.

 

Thomas withdrew his fingers from her, stifling a huff of annoyance. She wasn’t as lubricated as he would have liked and his erection was flagging. So he knelt up on his haunches and dragged the covers off her body, seeing her properly for the  first time. That little tuft of light brown curls covering her mound, and her covered chest heaving in…anticipation?

He dragged her legs apart and knelt between them, noticing her look away, a red blush now covering her chest and cheeks. Uncouth he knew, but he had no choice. He hacked up some of his own saliva and spat into his palm, then took his cock in hand, pumping a few times to bring himself back to full hardness.

Then he arranged himself between her spread thighs, holding himself with one hand and gripping her thigh with the other he guided himself into her. He was sure to focus more on what he was doing than on the reaction of his new wife who he was certain was still staring off to her right, waiting for him to be done. Silly girl, she’d wanted this. Had she just done as was expected of her they could both be asleep now.

It wasn’t easy, not like he was used to. He didn’t just slip in to her, and she wasn’t warm or soft or wet. She was tight, almost uncomfortably so, and he could feel the friction where he knew she wasn’t ready for him, and the natural resistance of her body as her walls clenched around him, threatening to push him out. So he used more force, bracing himself above her and forcing her to spread her legs further with his pelvis. Then suddenly, he slid in, his body lurching, and a strangled gasp fell from Eliza’s lips, then a whimper.

“Are you okay?” He hadn’t meant to ask, it was almost a reflex when you knew someone was hurt to check they were alright. He looked at her, he eyes were clenched shut and her chest rose and fell quickly. Her thighs pressed tightly around his body, as if trying to close, despite his presence there.

“Yes.” It was a quick, quiet, whisper, and she didn’t open her eyes.

When he started to move, he watched her lips press together, and he sped up a little, feeling a bit less resistance, it became easier for him to slide in and out of her. Little noises left the girl beneath him, then suddenly a sob, a big loud sob, and her eyes opened, full of tears and she looked at him. Fuck, he hated himself.

“Try to relax.” He mumbled, “It’ll be over soon.” And he doubled his efforts.

Eliza being a virgin had not really occurred to him. It should have. He’d never been with a virgin before. He’d never been with a woman who had absolutely no idea what to do, or what was happening. He hadn’t considered how this might feel for her. Doing this tonight, doing it after all he’d drunk, that was a big mistake. As he watched tears stream down his young brides face, he felt awful. He couldn’t come like this.

Thomas let his body drop, not enough to crush her, but enough so that his body touched hers, and he buried his face in the crease of her shoulder, mumbling, “Wrap your arms and legs around me.” She did, without hesitation, and he continued to rock into her. Bringing one hand up to her head, fingers stroking their way through her now lose curls. She stopped sniffling and shaking, and he could feel her body relax against his. He was getting closer.

A few more thrusts, and a low grunts later and Thomas emptied into her, then pulled out, breathless, and utterly exhausted. He rolled onto his back and without thinking about it he tugged Eliza into his body, encouraging her to rest her head on his bare chest, which rose and fell with exertion. He could feel her wet cheeks on his skin, and feel her shivering. Her body wrecked against his and he knew she was crying.

He didn’t like this, he didn’t like the fact he’d been blackmailed by his family into marriage. He didn’t particularly like the young woman they’d chosen for him, and he didn’t like the fact that she was now crying in his arms on their wedding night. But he wasn’t a monster and tonight he was too tired to fight it. He would let her have this tonight. So he stroked her hair and mumbled sounds like comforting ‘Shush’s” and ‘”It’ll be okay’s” until the snuffling and shuddering stopped and was replaced by her steady breathing, and he allowed himself to drift off into his own slumber.


	6. SIX

It was the throbbing ache in her pelvis which pulled Eliza from her sleep, and upon waking she discovered herself completely alone. Good. She wasn’t sure if she’d have been able to face her husband straight upon waking up, last night had been…horrific to put it bluntly.  

She’d expected discomfort, maybe a little bit of pain. But for Eliza losing her virginity had been agony. To a point in which she’d given way to any ounce of keeping up appearances. He was hurting her and she couldn’t hide it, so she’d cried. She’d cried during and she’d cried after, right up until she’d fallen asleep.

It wasn’t Thomas’ fault, she didn’t blame him. He’d not been particularly rough, or mishandled her in any way. Actually, when he’d seen her discomfort (to put it mildly) he’d been quite sweet. He’d held her close, and allowing her to cling to him as he’d rutted into her, had helped somewhat. Then afterwards he’d pulled her into his arms and held her and made some attempt to comfort her. Under normal circumstances she wouldn’t have allowed herself to show such weakness, but Eliza had been blindsided.

Now she lay in bed, and tentatively reached out to the creased sheets next to her. They were cold. Thomas must have been up and out for a while. It was likely he wasn’t ready to face her either. Eliza rolled onto her back and grunted at the discomfort between her legs, and when she moved them, it felt as if the skin was peeling apart from the sticky residue left behind from their coupling. She ached and she felt dirty, and all she wanted was a nice, long soak in a very hot bath. Then maybe she might start feeling better. Feel ready to think about the day ahead.

Eliza lifted the covers, feeling a bit embarrassed to still be wearing what she was last night. Her bralette from the pretty set of bridal lingerie, and the delicate stockings, which in her sleep had crumpled down to her shins. Lifting the covers completely she braved an investigation to the state of herself down there, nervous as to what she would find. It didn’t look quite as bad as it felt, although she could see a little bit of blood, mostly it was a few streaks on the white sheets beneath her and only a little evident on her thighs, and her sister-in-law’s had educated her enough that she knew some bleeding might happen and that was perfectly normal. She still felt messy down there though, and it smelled funny. She wrinkled her nose, then there was a knock on the door, and she jumped, pulling the sheets up once more, right to her neck before calling out, “Yes?”

“Lady Eliza.” It was Jenny from last night, peering into the room. Eliza nodded and the young maid entered fully, closing the door behind her, “Your parents request that you join them for breakfast with Lord and Lady Hiddleston and your new husband. Before you depart for London.”

“Of course.”

“I’m here to help you dress Mam, if you’ll allow this morning.” Jenny curtsied slightly.

“Please, Jenny. Just call me Eliza, and if you’d be so kind, could you draw me a hot bath?”

“Oh erm…well the thing is, Mam, it’s already gone nine o’clock and the family are waiting for you. Your Husband wishes to depart no later than half past ten.”

“Please, Jenny. Draw me a bath. They will just have to wait. Could you fetch me my robe too?” Eliza sighed, and held the sheets tighter to her person.

“Certainly, Mam.” Jenny nodded, and hurried into the dressing room, returning seconds later with the heavy robe, she stood next to the bed and held it open for Eliza. But instead Eliza reached out one arm and took the item from her maids hands.

“I can manage, Jenny. If you’d please leave me, and start preparing my bath?” Jenny nodded and hurried back into the dressing room, seconds later she heard the creak of pipes and running water hitting the ceramic tub in the next room. Eliza slowly pulled herself out of bed, and tugged her stockings off the rest of the way and divested herself of the bralette before donning the robe and wrapping it securely around her body. It felt good to stand up and move, her whole body felt so very stiff. She entered the adjoined bathroom to find jenny adding some salts to the water, “Thank you, Jenny.”

“Of course, Mam.”

“Please, it’s Eliza.”

“Eliza.” The girl smiled, “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“I don’t believe so,” Eliza told her, looking around. Several fluffy towels were folded on the chair next to the bath. A outfit was laid out next to her open suitcase. Her hairbrush and a little pile of pins were on the dresser, “Actually, if you could fetch me some sweet tea? And tell my family I don’t wish to dine with them, but of course I’ll bid them farewell before my departure. Perhaps you might also ask if the kitchen could wrap me up some bread and cheese for the journey?”

“Eliza, I don’t think…that is, your family will worry.”

“Then we let them worry.” Eliza smiled at the girl, “The truth is, I’m very tired, and really not feeling up to socialising this morning. I think I’ll feel better after a soak.”

Jenny nodded, giving her a knowing look. Although given her young appearance, Eliza wondered exactly how much Jenny knew. The bath water was turned off, temperature checked and then Eliza was left alone to bathe.

Eliza dropped her robe and turned for a second to the full length mirror situated at the far end of the room. She looked no different, although her eyes were pink and puffy, her body was the same. Not changed in anyway, on the outside she appeared no less virtuous than she had yesterday. Inside told a different story.

Gingerly, she stepped into the steaming bath. A pleased hiss escaping her lips as she sunk into the hot water, all her aches and pains floating away almost instantly. After several moments of peace she set to washing herself, she moved a hand between her legs, carefully, assuming it might hurt. Although it didn’t, actually it felt no different to normal, although as she gently douched herself, pink bloomed in the water. So she continued to wash until she felt clean. She was carefully rinsing her chest when there was a tap at the door.

“Come in.” She called, knowing it would be Jenny with her tea. The girl hurried in, and set the drink down on the chair next to the bath, moving the towels as she did so, “Lady…Eliza…A message from your husband, to hurry along. As he wishes to depart when he is finished with breakfast.”

“Well he can wait as long as nessisary.” Eliza told her, drawing her knees to her chest and taking the wash cloth to her legs, “Perhaps if he’d woken me before he left the room, I’d have been ready and dining with my family by now.”

“Would you like to me pack your case, Eliza?”

“That would be wonderful, thank you, Jenny. May I ask, how long have you been in the Hiddleston’s employ?”

“Oh…erm…well…that’s to say…I’m not…not long at all Eliza…but I’m not in their employ, I’m in yours.”

“I’m sorry?” Eliza stopped what she was doing, and looked up at the young girl who now stood nervously by the door, as if expecting to be sent away any moment.

“Your husband, I mean… Lord Thomas Hiddleston, recruited me as your Ladies Maid. I travelled up from London, and I’ll journey back on the train today and meet you at the house.” Jenny explained, her eyes wide and if Eliza wasn’t mistaken she could see her trembling a little. Never before had she been the type of person to cause fear in another.

“I’m ever so sorry, Jenny. This isn’t your fault…please do pass me a towel.” Jenny hurried forward, fetching a towel and opening it for Eliza as she stood from the bath and took the bath sheet, wrapping it around herself, “I’ll manage the rest myself, thank you.”

Jenny nodded politely and left the dressing room for Eliza to dry and dress in peace. It didn’t take her long. She’d not washed her hair, so once dressed in some wide leg trousers and sleeveless blouse, she simply pinned up the loose curls, and added a little rouge to her cheeks, and gloss to her lips. Then she slipped on her shoes and fetched her hat. When she left the dressing room, she discovered the bed had been stripped bare and the discarded clothes from the night before – her dress and lingerie, and Thomas’ suit were no where in sight. Her jacket hung on a hanger over the cupboard door, so she fetched it and draped it over her arm. Jenny had left the room, and her case was gone also.

 

“Lizzy!” her fathers relieved voice filled her ears as she reached the dining room where she discovered her family and the Hiddleston’s finishing up breakfast, “I was worried, my love. Are you quite well.”

“Perfectly fine.” Eliza nodded, and looked around the table, her brothers must have already left, but Thomas’ two sisters and their husbands were there. Her husband, however, was not, “I apologise for not joining you, yesterday was quite exhausting, I’m embarrassed to say I was in such a deep sleep.”

“Not at all dear.” Diana waved her hand, “I’ve had the cook make you a small hamper to take on your journey.”

“Thank you.”

“Thomas is outside, with Matthew.” One of his sisters piped up, Emma, if Eliza was recalling correctly. Although she’d only spoken to them both briefly yesterday.

“Thank you,” Eliza nodded again, “I apologise I’m unable to spend more time getting acquainted with you all, I understand Thomas wishes to depart very soon.”

“That’s right, though goodness knows why he is in such a rush.” Diana shook her head.

Several of the household waiting staff appeared and cleared the table, and Eliza felt a little awkward just standing there whilst the families sorted themselves out and prepared to say goodbye properly. Eventually the group left the dining room and Eliza’s father took her arm as they walked to the front door, which was already open and Eliza could just see her new husband, leaning against the car, talking away to his friend.

“Your things will arrive in a few days.” Her step-mother started, as they came to a stop at the top of the stone steps which lead down to the gravel drive, where the car waited for her, “And I understand you’ve met your Ladies Maid.”

“I have.” Eliza nodded, her throat feeling a little tight, “Daddy, when can I visit?”

“Whenever you like, darling.” Her father took both of her hands and held them tightly.

“Well not quite, dear.” Daphne cut in, “It really is up to Lord Thomas, when he and his wife take trips. You’ll need to settle in properly first.”

“Yes, of course.” Eliza mumbled, then turned to the Hiddleston’s, “Diana…and Lord Hiddleston…thank you so much for putting on a wonderful wedding, I couldn’t have wished for a more perfect day.”

“It really was perfect, wasn’t it?” Diana agreed, and Eliza internally cringed at her bare faced lie. She let go of her fathers hands and allowed her new in-laws to kiss her cheeks and wish their goodbyes. Then suddenly it was just Eliza and her father.

“Daddy…” She mumbled, quickly brushing away a stray tear.

“Oh no, dear sweet girl, don’t cry.” Lord Cottingham rushed forward to his daughter, and took her into his arms, “I’m so very proud of you, you’re going to make a wonderful wife. I know that, because you are simply the most perfect daughter.”

“I’m going to miss you.” Eliza croaked, hugging him tightly.

“I’m going to miss you too, Princess.” Her father pulled back, and took her arm, carefully walking her down the stairs towards the car.

“About time.” Thomas said, finally turning away from his friend, who patted his shoulder and hurried off back into the main house, “Are you ready, Eliza?”

“I think so, was my bag brought down?”

“Johnson put it in the back.”

“Okay…Bye, Daddy.” She hugged her father once more and then climbed into the back of the car, held open by the driver, and slid across the seat to the far side. She didn’t watch as Thomas shook her Father’s hand, and said his goodbyes. She heard promises made by Thomas, as her Father asked him to look after his little girl, and to visit anytime, that of course he would, and they would visit at their earliest opportunity. But then her husband climbed in next to her, and the door shut. She didn’t look back as they set off down the driveway.

 

*

Eliza didn’t talk for most of the journey, and Thomas was relieved for it. He wasn’t sure if it was an act of defiance, he knew he should have woken her up when he left the bedroom. But he simply couldn’t face her, not after the previous night. It had been…awful. For her mostly, and from what he could remember, he’d not found it all that enjoyable either. But he knew not waking her, and causing her to miss breakfast with her family would cause her to be unhappy.

The truth was, Thomas didn’t want to spend anymore time at Bedgebury, than absolutely nessisary. He wanted to go home and he wanted his life back. Even if that meant taking his new wife with him, he was quite certain that what Matthew had told him was accurate, once settled he’d hardly notice she was there.  

“Are you in the office every day?” the question came out of the blue, and Thomas wondered how long she’d been pondering whether she should ask.

“Most days.” He answered.

“Right.”

“There’s a dinner, next Monday evening, for the business. You will be attending with me.”

“I see.”

“It’s formal.”

“Of course.”

“Perhaps you’ll make some friends with the wives.”

“Yes.” She didn’t look at him as they conversed, her answers remained short and stunted.

“Eliza. Look at me when I talk to you.” But she didn’t. For now though, he wouldn’t push her. She was clearly not in her right mind. Still tired, and shaken from the previous night, “We shall be arriving shortly.”

When the car pulled up in front of Thomas’ London townhouse, he let himself out of the car, and walked around to open the door for Eliza, whilst Johnson unloaded the cases from the boot. Eliza held onto his elbow as he lead her up the front path and up the three steps to his black front door. It opened just as they reached it, and his House keeper, Mrs. Connelly beamed at him.

“Lord Hiddleston,” She greeted him.

“Mrs Connelly, thank you for coming back early to prepare the house, may I introduce, Lady Eliza Hiddleston, my new wife.” He nudged her forward a little, “Eliza, this is my trusty House Keeper, Mrs. Connelly.”

“A pleasure to meet you,” Eliza obediently let go of his arm and held her hand out to his employee, shaking her hand lightly.

“And you, My Lady.”

“I’ll have Mrs. Connelly introduce you to my cook, and you’ve briefly met Mr. Clarke my valet.” Eliza nodded dumbly, “I’ll give you the tour, but it will have to be brief.”

He swiftly moved through the rooms of the house, sitting room, study, dining room, Kitchen. Guest bedrooms and bathroom. It was all very nice, clean, tidy, fairly spacious for a townhouse in the city. There was plenty of expensive art of the walls, and shelves of boots in the study, where he spent the majority of his free time at home.

“This will be your room, Eliza.” He finally opened the door to a large room on the first floor, it was at the front of the house, and overlooked the street and neighbouring houses outside. It was a mirror of his own room which was situated at the back of the house overlooking the small and tidy garden. He preferred the back, it was quieter.

Thomas held the door open and Eliza stepped inside and glanced around, a deep frown etched on her pretty brow, “My room?”

“Yes, of course you can change anything you like. Any furniture you’d prefer or textiles please let Mrs Connelly know and she can assist you in that area. It’s a bit sparse now, but I understand you have some belongings arriving later in the week.”

“Yes...I do.” She bit her lip and approached one of the large sash windows and peered out, “I’m sorry. This is lovely, Thomas. I just wasn’t expecting my own room...I thought...Well assumed, I might share with you.”

Thomas gave her a hard look. It had never even crossed his mind that they might share a bedroom. His parents never had, although he knew it was quite common for wedded couples to do so, “I thought you’d prefer to have your own space. I know I do.”

“Oh...” Eliza breathed out the word in understanding. He didn’t want to share with her. Not with anyone at all. His bedroom was his place, “Excuse me for asking. This will sound very naive of me to say. But we are expected to have children are we not?” They’d not actually talked about this yet. Thomas had been hoping they wouldn’t have to, that it would just happen without the conversation being had.

“Eventually.”

“So ...when-”

“Eliza this is not up for discussion.”

“Very well.” Was her stiff response.

“I’ll leave you to settle in and freshen up, lunch will be ready soon, and this evening I have some business to attend to in town.” Thomas turned to leave the room, to allow her time to familiarise herself with her new home, and rest.

“Am I coming with you.”

Thomas stopped, hearing her speak, and arched an eyebrow in her direction, “I’m sorry?”

“This afternoon, you said you had business in town. Am I coming with you?”

“God, no! What on earth for?”

“I don’t know.” Eliza shrugged, “I just assumed, now that we’re married-”

“I think, from here on out, you should stop making assumptions regarding our marriage. Now I’ll send Mrs. Connelly up when lunch is ready.” Tom turned on the spot and strode from the room, leaving her alone.


	7. SEVEN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOOP! 100 Kudos!!!
> 
> Thank you to everyone who's reading and for all your lovely comments. 
> 
> Here's a chapter to celebrate.

The first time Jenny had knocked on the door, Eliza had pretended to still be asleep. She’d waited, listening to the goings on in the house. She heard a door open and close down the hall, running water. Thomas’ voice, but it was too far away to make out what he was saying. Then more conversation, and finally the sound of the front door opening and closing.

The second time Jenny knocked, must have been over an hour later. This time, Eliza allowed her to prepare an outfit, and help her with her hair. Then she sent her away so she could dress herself. Her new maid was really rather sweet, and really quite bemused by how little Eliza asked of her. They didn’t talk much, although Eliza in the past had become quite friendly with her families household staff, it had taken a long time to build that relationship, and truly right now, she didn’t know how long she would keep Jenny Jones in her employment. It was nothing personal, rather, she just didn’t feel she had the requirement for a Ladies Maid, she liked looking after herself.

Once ready for the day, Eliza decided to move forward with her head held high. She had nothing to be unhappy about, she was living in London, her favourite city. From what she understood she was within walking distance of two of her brothers homes and she had other friends all over the city.

She trotted downstairs and entered the dining room, finding Mrs. Connelly setting out a place at the table.

“Good Morning, Lady Hiddleston.” The older woman beamed at her, “What would you like for breakfast? I’ll send word to the kitchen.”

“Good morning… you know I wouldn’t mind some scrambled egg? Would that be possible?” Eliza smiled, taking her seat, “And some sweet tea?”

“Certainly.” Mrs Connelly hurried off, and Eliza reached for the newspaper folded on the table next to her. The housekeeper returned several moments later with her tea, “Your breakfast won’t be long.”

“Thank you, and please, call me Eliza I can’t stand all this Lady Hiddleston, it’s such a mouthful.” Eliza smiled kindly at the woman.

“As you wish.”

“May I ask your given name? If you don’t mind.” Eliza queried, she’d always preferred addressing her staff by their Christian names, if they allowed. It felt more personal, and dare she say it more equal.

“It’s Ruth.”

“Do you mind if I call you Ruth?”

“Not at all, my lady.”

“Just Eliza.”

“Of course, Eliza, let me get your breakfast, it must be ready.”

 

Once she’d eaten, Eliza hurried back to her room to find her jacket and some shoes, deciding she would take herself for a walk. When she returned to her room she discovered her bed had miraculously been made, curtains drawn and windows opened. The room really was lovely, bright and airy. That was something at least, she may go as far as saying although smaller, it was nicer than her bedroom back home. Well, at her Father’s home.

She found her purse, and pinned her hat in place on her head then hurried back downstairs and towards the front door. Her hand had barely touched the latch when Mrs Connelly’s – Ruth’s voice stopped her in her tracks.

“Lady Eliza, what are you doing?”

“Just popping out for some air.” Eliza frowned, not used to having to explain herself, not to anyone other than her step-mother. At home she strolled the grounds every morning. When she stayed in the city with her brothers she wandered alone to the local park, or the bakery. Although she was not familiar with this specific street, she was confident enough in the city alone not to get lost.

“Goodness no, we’ve got too much to do!” Ruth looked utterly appalled.

“Excuse me?”

“Well… you’re the lady of the house, we need to discuss how you wish your home to be run. Miss Betty wants to meet you and discuss menus. You still need to properly discuss your routine with Miss Jones, and we’ve all been waiting for you.” This was news to Eliza, and the look of shock on her face showed her complete confusion over what Ruth was telling her.

“How I wish my home to be run?”

“Your governess did teach you about running a home?”

“I’m twenty-two nearly! I’ve not had a governess since I was fourteen,” Eliza bit her lip, “My step-mother though…she spoke about it.”

“I see. Well, come through, take your hat off. I’ve made tea…” Ruth took Eliza’s purse and hurried her back through to the kitchen. Around a small square wooden table sat her little group of household staff, sans Mr Clarke, who she could only assume was accompanying her husband.

Eliza removed her hat and set it down on the table in front of her, then took a seat with her employees. Ruth quickly introduced her to Miss Betty, the cook. Miss Betty, she learnt was actually called Betty Price. She’d worked as a household cook in the city for nearly her entire life, starting as a kitchen assistant at fourteen, now she was nearing seventy. She was a small lady, but tubby with white curly hair and a kind smile. But Eliza couldn’t help but notice how frail she was and in her opinion far to elderly to be working the hours she did.  

“And you all work every day?” Eliza asked.

“Goodness no! Unless required, Myself, Jenny, and Mr Clarke all have Sundays off and a half day in the week, of your choosing. Miss Betty works mornings only at the weekends, and in the week, with today being an exception, she works breakfast and dinner. She breaks between ten o’clock and three o’clock. Whilst Lord Thomas is at work.” Ruth explained.

“I see.” Eliza nodded slowly, wondering what on earth Ruth did with herself all day, she understood a house took looking after, but it had only been Thomas living there up until now. Surely he didn’t create too much disorder on his own.

“I start at seven o’clock in the morning, and finish in the evening when Lord Thomas has finished his dinner. During the day I take care of the house, cleaning, washing, and grocery shopping.” Ruth continued.

“Well… I… As you might have noticed…” Eliza trailed off and glanced at Jenny. She didn’t want to offend anyone, “I’m very independent. I’ve never even had my own Ladies Maid.” Then she shot Miss Betty a kind smile, “I love to cook, and I don’t wish to push you out of your kitchen, but occasionally I would like to prepare my own meals, it’s something I enjoy. Perhaps at the weekends? I like the outdoors, I notice there’s a small garden, I would like to tend to some potted plants…and erm… I like to walk a lot. I walk every day.”

The table around her fell silent and she got the distinct feeling she’d ruffled some feathers.

“Of course,” Eliza decided to quickly continue, “This is my husbands home, and I’m sure he likes things done a certain way.”

“Eliza,” Ruth said gently, “This is your home now, and being the lady of the house, the task of deciding how its run falls to you. If you were you…I know it’s bold of my to say…but…I’d grasp that opportunity. Men dictate so much of women’s lives…this is yours.”

Eliza nodded slowly. Ruth was right. This was her home now.

“Well okay…” she trailed off thoughtfully, “Well for starters, there’s a horrid painting in the sitting room, it has to go.”

“The Constable? Above the fireplace?” Ruth smirked a little, “Lord Thomas loves that painting.”

“Then perhaps we could move it to the study, I’d like something brighter in the sitting room. I have some of my own being delivered from home. I have an idea of something which will suit the room nicely.”

“Certainly.” Ruth nodded, and Eliza caught Jenny cover her mouth with her hand as she stifled a giggle.

They continued their discussion for the next couple of hours, over tea, and some beautiful Banana Bread made by Miss Betty. It was decided that Miss Betty would now have four half days a week, including the weekend and two days during the week, Eliza assured her it would not affect her pay, but would allow her to spend more time with her family. Also Jenny and Ruth would get two full days off work, and Jenny would never work later than five o’clock, as she had a fair way to travel home.

Much to Eliza’s chagrin it was made very clear to her that venturing out of the house without a chaperone would not be tolerated by her husband. She had a Ladies maid, and she would act as that chaperone, so if Eliza wished to take a walk in the park she would be accompanied by Jenny at all times. She didn’t like it, but she had often seen other ladies walking around with their maids in the city and she knew it was the done thing. Unfortunately for Eliza, she enjoyed her own company and she knew she’d not be getting very much of that from now on.

Eliza didn’t end up getting her walk, as Ruth wanted to run a full inventory of the house with her, and discuss any other changes she wished to make (there were several) and then after lunch a truck arrived with all her belongings. She spent a good few hours sorting through them and getting her room how she wanted it.

By the time Miss Betty served dinner, it was just past five o’clock and Thomas was still not home. She wasn’t sure what time he worked until, and none of the staff seemed fazed by his absence. Jenny left and Eliza changed herself into a nightgown and a robe and found a book in the study. One she’d not read before, on one of the high shelves. She curled up in an armchair and lost herself in the book. At seven o’clock Ruth left with Miss Betty.

“Eliza, dear… Lord Thomas’ dinner is in the bottom of the oven. Mr Clarke normally fetches it for him.” Ruth told her, popping her head around the door.

“Alright.” She nodded.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay on your own?”

“I’ll be perfect, thank you for everything today, Ruth.”

Eliza decided she preferred the house when it was just her in it. It was peaceful, surprisingly. She could barely hear any noise from the street outside, and the ticking of the big grandfather clock in the lobby was really quite therapeutic.

According to the time on the mantle, it was just gone half past eight when the front door opened and Thomas strode into the house, with Mr Clarke. He barely glanced at her as he passed the sitting room.

“I’m afraid I ate without you.” She called, uncurling herself, and padding down the hall into the dining room, where her husband was now divesting himself of his jacket into Mr Clarke’s hands and sitting himself down at the table which Ruth had left set up for his evening meal. He didn’t respond to her.

“Where is everyone?” He asked her after a minute, voice gruff, with a slight slur, and if Eliza wasn’t mistaken, she was sure he’d been drinking.

“Ruth and Betty left at seven. I didn’t need Jenny so I sent her home at five.” Eliza shrugged, “How was work?”

“It was work.” Thomas told her.

Realising she was not going to get much more conversation out of him, she retreated to the sitting room, and got herself comfortable again under the dim light of the standard lamp behind the armchair. It was only a short while later that her husband joined her. She didn’t pay him any mind when his shadow cast over her chair, and he watched her read for a few good minutes. Then he moved and seated himself on the chair nearest the window, and huffed out loud, continuing to watch her. She stopped reading, too aware of his gaze on her, she couldn’t ignore him any longer.

“I’m sorry…is this where you prefer to sit? I can move.”

“No…actually I spend very little time in here.” He told her, “That is my book though.” He nodded at the book in her lap, which lay open, her thumb holding her page.  

“Yes, I borrowed it from your study, I didn’t think you’d mind…you said before, in the library at Bedgebury. To broaden my horizons.”

“I did.” He nodded once, “And is it?”

“Is it what?”

“Broadening your horizons.” Eliza felt her cheeks heating up under his stare. Truth be told, she had no idea what he meant, and he knew that. He knew exactly how innocent she was, and he was picking fun at her naivety. Eliza was a smart girl, very clever in fact, but when it came to matters of intimacy she hadn’t realised until her wedding night, just how uneducated she was. She’d spent her youth sheltered by her older brothers, no Mother and a Step-Mother who was more concerned with making sure she knew which china should be used for which guests, than teaching her anything of actual importance. But Thomas knew, and she hated how he was looking at her, mostly bored, but with some mild amusement, “I’m only on chapter four.” She told him, snapping the book closed.

Thomas opened his mouth to speak again, but was interrupted by the sound of a throat being cleared. Mr. Clarke stood in the doorway, dressed in his outerwear, “If there’s nothing else you need, Sir. I’ll be off.”

“Thank you, Clarke.” Thomas nodded, and that’s when Eliza noted again the slur in his voice. In fact, now looking at him she realised there was a pinkness to his cheeks, and his pupils were dilated. He was definitely drunk. Moments later the front door shut and Eliza’s stomach turned. They’d been alone together several times now, but there had always been someone else in the vicinity, somewhere. Now, for the first time, they were truly alone. Well she assumed the previous night they were probably alone, but Ruth was still there when she’d gone to sleep, and when she woke the staff were there also.

“I think I’ll erm…go to bed.”

“It’s not even nine.”

“I know.”

“Stay, have a drink with me.” Thomas asked.

“Alright.” Eliza nodded, standing up. She walked through to the Dining Room, where Thomas’ bar was situated, and she fetched two tumblers, and poured a generous measure of Scotch from the cut crystal carafe into each, then walked back in, and held one out for Thomas to take.

“Good girl.” He nodded, taking it from her, but he barely made eye contact.

 “I wanted to ask you about something.” Thomas nodded, taking a sip from his glass, and silently permitting her to speak, “It’s about Jenny.” He frowned, “Miss Jones, my…maid. Well…I like her very much, but…must she accompany me everywhere I go?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well… I wanted to go for a walk today, alone-”

“Out of the question.”

“What, why?”

“This isn’t the country, Eliza. This is a London, it’s not safe for a Lady, like yourself to wonder the streets alone.”

“And you care about my safety?”

“I care about my reputation. It will look bad on me, if you fail to behave like a proper Lady.”

“Well that’s nice!” Eliza scoffed, and quickly downed her drink and slammed the glass down on the mahogany side table. He could at least pretend to care about her wellbeing, but apparently he wasn’t even capable of that. She stood, and straightened out her robe. “I’m going to bed.”

“Eliza.” Thomas practically shouted, as she started marching out the room, “Eliza, do not ignore me!”

“What?” She stopped in the doorway, turning round and glaring at him.

“Where the fuck is my Constable?” Thomas was standing now his tumbler clutched tightly in his left hand whilst his right pointed at the spot above the mantle, which just this morning was home to the landscape by the famous artist, where now hung a huge framed canvas of Spring Flowers. Her mother had painted it, and she’d had it hanging in her bedroom at her Father’s home for as long as she could remember.  

“It’s in your study.”

“Why?”

“I don’t like it. It’s dull.”

“Dull? It’s a masterpiece.”

“That’s why it’s in your study.”

“And instead you hang this…tripe up on my wall? This…this doesn’t even, it’s coming down, right now!” Thomas started reaching for the painting, and Eliza ran forward, pushing herself in front of him.

“Don’t you dare touch it!”

“Move.”

“No!”

“Don’t touch the painting.”

“It’s horrid.”

“No it’s not!”

“What even is it?”

“It’s Spring Flowers, from my gardens.”

“Your gardens?”

“Yes. From my gardens, at home, my Mother painted it.”

At this, Thomas took a step back, closed his eyes and exhaled a long, steady breath, “Go to bed, Eliza.”

“What?”

“I said go to bed.”

“Please don’t touch the painting. I like it there. You just said yourself you hardly use this room, please let me keep it there.”

“Go to bed.”

“Not until you promise you aren’t going to touch my painting!”

“I’m not going to touch your precious painting, but if you don’t get out of my sight, I can promise you’ll be seeing the back of my hand. Go.” Eliza paled, and moved as quickly as she could. She practically ran up the stairs and shut herself in her room. She wasn’t going to cry, not over this, she wasn’t going to let him upset her. She took several very deep breaths to calm her nerves and as she did anger settled over her. Did he seriously just threaten to hit her? Why was she running away, she needed to let him know that was not okay. Gathering her wits, she swung her bedroom door back open.

“Eliza.” She practically jumped out of her skin, seeing Thomas standing in front of her. He looked stressed, hair mussed, cheeks red, and eyes bloodshot. He seemed a bit out of breath, she noted his chest heaving  under his shirt, had he run up the stairs?

“What?” She asked stiffly.

“That…that was wrong of me.”

“You can’t make threats like that.”

“I know…I…I’m sorry.”

“The painting stays.”

“The painting stays.” He stepped closer, but she stepped back inside her room and held onto the doorframe, “Come on Eliza. Don’t be like this.”

“Like what? You just threatened to backhand me.”

“And now I’m saying sorry, Christ.”

“Apology accepted.”

“Let me in.”

“In?”

“Your room.” Her knuckles turned white as she gripped the doorframe even tighter and tipped her head up, pointing her chin out defiantly.

She shook her head, “No.” At this, Thomas’ stance relaxed a bit, and held both hands out in front of him, and Eliza watched him carefully. Slowly, as he approached her, he lifted one hand, and she held fast, determined not to flinch from his touch or show her fear. Because she was scared, terrified in fact. Never once had a man threatened her with violence. Sure, she’d had fights with her brothers, but that was just rough and tumble. She didn’t know her knew husband that well yet and from what she did know her opinion of him was not high. But she’d certainly never expected that from him, up until that point he might not have played the doting husband, but he had treated her mostly with a certain amount of respect.

His hand cupped her cheek gently and he stroked her face with his thumb, “Alright. I won’t bother you any more this evening. But tomorrow…tomorrow you’ll let me in.”

With that he dropped his hand, and turned on his heel and disappeared through the door at the other end of the hall, which Eliza only knew because Jenny had told her, was her husbands bedroom. Quickly, Eliza closed her door and turned the key in the lock. She felt a bit proud, standing up to him like that, not letting him get his way. She wasn’t going to let him boss her around, this was her home now and he would just have to deal with any changes she wanted to make.


	8. EIGHT

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry! I fully intended to update earlier this week, but we had a power cut. Then the next two evenings I was out. But here it is - Chapter 8!
> 
> I may try and post the next chapter before the weekend is out, because as of Monday I'm off to London for a couple of nights and I'll be seeing Betrayal!!!! WOOOP!
> 
> Enjoy!

“She’s where?” Thomas questioned Mrs Connelly, as he stood just inside the dining room, hands on hips. He’d come home earlier, planning to eat lunch with his wife, and hopefully convince her he wasn’t a complete arsehole before their first evening out together in public as a married couple.

He’d not meant to lose his temper a few nights ago. But he was tired, and drunk and he wasn’t used to coming home and having someone there, in his space, moving his things. If he was honest he didn’t care about the painting, actually he didn’t detest the flowers now adorning his sitting room wall, and he loathed to admit it, but Eliza was right, it was a bright, sunny room, and his Constable was a bit dull. It suited his study better. Besides, she could have the sitting room for herself for all he cared, it was a rarely used room. But Eliza hadn’t spoken to him since. In fact he’d scarcely seen her, she’d stayed out of his way, only crossing paths with him when absolutely nessisary.

Thomas knew he needed to get her trust back, if he ever had it to start with? Because as much as he didn’t want to think about it, Eliza had already mentioned children once, and he knew it would only be a matter of time before his parents started asking. He wanted to get it out of the way, and right now, Eliza was unlikely to let him anywhere near her.

But when he arrived home, he discovered Miss Betty gone for the day, Jenny absent, Mrs Connelly organising the laundry, and absolutely no sign of his little wife.

“Lunch with her Sister in Law, Sir. She phoned her this morning, and Lady Hiddleston left around eleven o’clock. She said she would be back mid afternoon.”  Ruth explained to her employer, in her usual confident manner She’d been dealing with Thomas for too many years to be affected by one of his tantrums.

“I see, and I take it Miss Jones is with her?”

“No, sir…today is Jenny's day off. Lady Eliza was quite insistent on going alone. I have spoken to her about it, but unfortunately I couldn’t stop her.” Ruth looked apologetic, although Thomas was already aware of the arrangement made by Eliza to give the serving staff two full days off a week, as he'd had to extend this to his own Valet, much to his annoyance. “Miss Betty prepared you a light lunch. Shall I serve it?”

“Please.” He said gruffly.

Thomas was just finishing up his food when the front door sounded and Eliza’s heels came clicking down the hall. “Ruth, are you still here?” she called, as she entered the dining room, still holding her purse, and her hat tucked under her arm, “Oh, hello.” She sort of smiled at Thomas, seeing him at the table.

“Mrs Connelly is in the kitchen.” Thomas told her simply.

“Oh good, I wanted to catch her before she left for shopping. Clara was telling me about a new butchers on Portobello Market, I was going to ask if she could go there and get us a joint of beef for dinner this week. What do you think?” Eliza put her hat on the table, and yanked a few pins from her hair, letting it fall to touch her shoulders.

“Beef sounds perfect.” Thomas nodded and watched Eliza in bemusement as she picked up his empty plate and disappeared into the back of the house to find their housekeeper. He stood from the table and retreated to his study. He waited for the click of feels on the wood floors before calling his wife to see him, “Eliza.”

The footsteps paused then approached the room and she stepped into the doorway, “Thomas?”

“I specifically told you, you were not to go out alone.”

“I was with Clara.”

“She escorted you from the front door to your brother’s home?”

“Well no, but it’s only a twenty minute walk, and it’s beautiful weather-”

“Then you went out alone.”

“Thomas...”

“It won’t happen again.” He said with finality and Eliza pursed her lips and nodded shortly, “I also have no issue with you altering Miss Jones’ hours, but we are due to go out tonight, I presume you’ve forgotten. So authorising her today off was foolish on your part.”

“I’d not forgotten.” Eliza told him, “I’m fully capable of getting myself ready.”

“Very well. How is your Sister in law?”

“She’s well. Thank you. We took the children to the park.”

“I’m sure they enjoyed that.”

“They did...and I enjoyed it very much.”

“How many children would you like, Eliza?”

Eliza bit her lip. It wasn’t a trick question but Thomas knew that’s what she was trying to figure out. He had had told her not a week earlier that the topic of children was not up for discussion. He could only assume that she did want children, she’d been the one to try and bring up the subject before. But since their little spat, in which he’d made the mistake of threatening her, she’d not allowed him into her room, or anywhere near her.

“I’d be happy with one.” She said eventually.

“Just one?”

“Do you want more?” Eliza asked and he was impressed by her boldness.

“If it was up to me, there would be none. But it’s my responsibility to ensure I have a son to inherit the business and estate.” He explained matter of fact, “And I think I speak for both of us when I say that it would be preferable to get that out the way sooner rather than later.”

*

He was right. He was completely and utterly right. But that didn’t stop the stab of hurt that went through Eliza's chest. She didn’t love him, in fact she didn’t even like her husband most of the time. But she wanted him to want her, she wanted to be a good wife, because honestly she had absolutely nothing else. She was trying, she really was, but she’d already given up so much for this marriage. Her freedom, her hobbies, her chance to fall in love... She wasn’t willing to change any other part of herself for him.

“Yes.” She nodded, “Sooner the better.”

“Good. Tonight when we get home. You’ll let me into your room. And you’ll do so as often as I see fit until you are with child. Is that alright?”

“Yes.” She nodded again, and for some reason she felt completely empty. Completely void of emotion. This wasn’t how it was meant to be. Marriage…she’d read so many books about love, but none about a marriage which was void of such an emotion.

“Very well. Go and get ready.”

The car picked them up at seven o’clock sharp and Thomas escorted his wife outside and even held the door for her. She grinned at Johnson and gave him a wave, it had been over a week since she’d last seen him, and even though he was just the driver and she didn’t know him, it was nice to see another familiar face.

Thomas had been hoping for a peaceful car journey, but that wasn’t going to happen. Eliza was getting more confident with him, and although she’d not spoken to him all week, now she had questions and she wanted answers.

“Where are we going?”

“What’s it for?”

“Who is going to be there?”

Thomas answered all her questions in a brief and dismissive manner, but was sure to make it very clear she should be polite and courteous but remember her place. Eliza wasn’t sure what he meant by that, because her place in her mind was quite an important one. Thomas was the Acting CEO of Hiddleston Shipping, she was his wife. Therefore she was one of the most important people in attendance, surely?

The moment the car pulled to a stop outside the hotel in which they were dining, Thomas leapt out the car and leant back in to assist his wife, she placed her hand on his arm and escorted her inside, suddenly putting on the act of doting husband. “Smile” He told her, and she waited for him to turn away before screwing her nose up and poking her tongue out at him.

They were lead through to the dining room, which was already full of people milling around. Although it was fewer people than Eliza had expected, she thought it was going to be a huge, fancy affair, but it looked like it was going to be more a small, intimate dinner. The second everyone realised they had arrived, the room fell silent and everyone turned to look at them.

“Lord Hiddleston!” A tall man approached them, very tall, taller than Thomas, and he was over six foot. He was older, Eliza guessed even older than her husband by the grey flecks of hair above his ears, but he was certainly very handsome.

“Michael, hello.” Thomas nodded, holding out his hand, Eliza watched, keeping the smile he’d instructed her to use fixed on her face as she waited for an introduction, “You’ve not met my wife, Eliza, Eliza this is Michael Darling. He’s my office manager.”

“Lovely to meet you.” Eliza held her hand out and Michael dutifully took it and bestowed a kiss upon her knuckles.

“And you, Lady Hiddleston. And may I say you looking stunning.”

“You may say.” Eliza giggled, “And just Eliza, please.”

“Very well, Eliza, you must meet my wife, Mary.” Michael looked around and held an arm out to an approaching woman. She was older than Eliza, but clearly younger than her husband, and absolutely breathtakingly beautiful. Tall, slim and elegant. And very, very familiar.

“Lady Eliza.” Mary nodded and Eliza smiled with uncertainty as she tried to place the woman in front of her, “You probably don’t remember me?”

“I’m sorry?” Eliza shook her head and both the men frowned.

“You’ve met my wife before?” Thomas was the first to ask and Eliza was pleased she didn’t have to.

“Oh little Lizzy was just a speck when I last saw her, I was a friend of your brother, Jacob.” Mary explained, “I visited your family home a number of occasions, you must have been...nine or ten years old.”

“Mary Knight?” Eliza said with sudden realisation and an instant turning of her stomach. Mary was older than she looked, and a friend of her brothers was an understatement. The pair had courted for some time. Mary had declined her brothers proposal and left him utterly heartbroken almost twelve years ago. Her second oldest brother had never married and now lived alone managing the Glasgow branch of their fathers business. He was a quiet man, and smart as a whip and so very, very kind. Eliza knew she shouldn’t have a favourite sibling, but Jacob was secretly it.  

“Yes, well, Mary Darling now.” The brunette hooked her arm around her husbands and he smiled at her lovingly, “I must say I was surprised when I heard of your engagement to Thomas. I wasn’t aware you’d ever met.”

“Our fathers are close friends.” Thomas interjected.

“I had no idea.” Mary shook her head, “And how are you both enjoying married life?”

Eliza and Thomas both fell silent and as if reading the others mind looked at each other, and Eliza’s grip on her husbands arm tightened. Then Thomas smiled, and his eyes looked so genuinely warm as he gazed into Eliza’s that even she was almost fooled.

“It’s been…an adjustment.” He finally said, and Eliza nodded slowly in agreement, “But a happy one.”

“I’m enjoying running my own home.” Eliza didn’t break his stare.

“You’re up in Mayfair aren’t you?” Mary asked, and Eliza finally looked away from her husband, and nodded, “You’ll have to have tea with me. Soon, perhaps in the week, we’re just in Shepherds Bush.”

“I’m sure Eliza would love that, but if you don’t mind, I must take her away…networking.” Thomas lay his hand over his wife’s on his arm, and drew her away, as he uttered under his breath, “I had to get you away from that woman, I despise her. I do hope you aren’t set on befriending her?”

“I thought you wanted me to make friends with the wives?” Eliza asked in a mumble, not looking at him.

“Not that wife…ah here, Robert, Lilly…” Suddenly Thomas was striding across the room, weaving his wife through the small group of people, and she had to jog to keep up. They approached a couple at the far end of the long table which was set up for dinner, the man was probably around Thomas’ age, but shorter and his hair was dark brown, and greased into a side parting, and a woman who couldn’t have been that much older than Eliza.

“Thomas, my friend.” The man, Robert apparently, grinned widely and held his hand out to Thomas. The men shook hands, and then Thomas swept up the ladies hand and bestowed a kiss upon it, and Eliza watched as her cheeks reddened.

“I wanted to introduce my wife, Eliza. Eliza this is Robert, he’s down at the docks, coordinating the men down there. The most important man in the entire company, and his beautiful wife, Lilly.” Thomas introduced, and it was the most enthusiastic she’d seen him…ever.

“Lovely to meet you.” Eliza nodded, allowing Robert to kiss her hand, and sharing a smile with Lilly.

“Now, I need to borrow Robert, can I leave you two ladies to get to know one another?” Thomas let go of Eliza, but leant into her brushing his lips on her cheek, “Remember your place,” He repeated his earlier words in a whisper that only Eliza could hear, and she nodded, feeling a bit relieved that he was leaving her alone. Eliza didn’t mind the idea of not being on his arm for a while, in fact networking was something she was quite good at. Thomas and Robert walked off towards the bar, and Eliza looked at Lilly.

“How long have you and Robert been married?” Eliza asked stepping closer to the other woman.

“Two years.” Lilly answered, looking a little nervous. She was American, Eliza discovered, when the woman spoke, which surprised her a little, because all the American’s she’d ever met had been quite loud and outgoing, but Lilly seemed surprisingly reserved.  

“And you live in London?”

“Hammersmith.” Lilly nodded.

“You know, I think I might fetch another Champagne, would you join me?” Eliza asked, kindly and she couldn’t help but notice Lilly’s eyes dart around the room. So Eliza glanced around openly, and that was when she realised the number of eyes on her and Lilly’s exchange. She looked back at Lilly, “Please?”

“Alright.” Lilly nodded, and the two women headed for one of the waiters with a tray of Champagne.

“Why is everyone looking at me?” Eliza asked under her breath, as she managed to get Lilly to the side of the room. Lilly’s eyes darted around the room again, and then she gave Eliza a serious look.

“You’re the new Lady Hiddleston…erm… Thomas is…well…kind of a big deal ya know?” Is this what Thomas meant by remembering her place?

“I see?” But she didn’t not really.

“Well, his marriage came as quite a surprise.”

“Because of his reputation?” Eliza asked, knowing it was a bit bold.

“It’s not for me to say, my lady.”

“Just Eliza, please. You know… I’m aware of his reputation.”

“You are?”

“I am. I also know he’s a bit of an arse.” Lilly’s eyes widened.

“Lady Eliza!” Lilly gasped under her breath and covering her mouth, but the second she realised no one else had heard she giggled. Once shed composed herself she lifted her fresh glass of champagne and spoke from behind it, “He’s the most important person in this room, not just because of Hiddleston Shipping but because of his social status. The Hiddleston’s are practically royalty.” Eliza’s brow creased, it felt strange referring to the Hiddleston’s now she was one of them.

“So I’m considered just as important by proxy?”

“Possibly more so. Your husband is expected to formally introduce you to every guest. It would be improper for them to approach you without an introduction. But... I imagine Thomas did that on purpose. Bobby says he likes to be in control.”

“Well that’s ludicrous. I’ll talk to whoever I like!” Eliza laughed in disbelief, “You know Lilly. I like you.”

“Well...thank you?” Lilly looked momentarily confused, but pleased with the compliment.

“I think my husband wishes us to be friends and goodness knows I need some at the moment.”

“I’d be honoured to be considered your friend. I have very few, I moved from the states when Bobby and I wed. My whole family are back in New York and I don’t know many people.”

“It’s decided then.” Eliza took Lilly's arm and together they walked through the small party ignoring the looks from the other guests.

“Ladies and Gentlemen. If you would take your seats. Dinner is about to be served.”

*

Thomas was mostly bored. He hated these affairs. It was supposed to be a social gathering, away from work and an opportunity for the heads of different departments to rub shoulders. It was a quarterly dinner, and the brainchild of Michael Darling who would use any excuse to spend the companies money. The men from the shipyard and those who were office based didn’t see each other, but were closely linked, Michael said it made for stronger working relationships.

But when these events rolled around, Thomas realised just how separate he was from the actual company. Everyone knew him, obviously.  And everyone was nice to him, but only because they had to be. But all that happened at these dinners was that everyone ended up talking about work and asking his opinion of things he really didn’t give a fuck about.

He noticed however that his new wife seemed to be enjoying herself immensely. He was seated at the top of the table, Eliza on the corner next to him. Next to her was Lilly, who had purposely introduced her too because Lilly was...harmless. Quiet and surprisingly ladylike. He wasn’t a cruel man, not really. He knew his wife needed friends and he had no intention of making her a prisoner in his home. Quite the opposite actually, he’d prefer her out most of the time, but not alone. Because as much as he hated to admit it, he was trying to salvage a reputation. He'd never worked to hide his proclivities but now he was married he would have to, and having his wife seen galivanting around the city alone would look...bad.

But much to Thomas' annoyance he noticed that Eliza was also striking up and rather enjoying conversation with many members of the party. Ones he had not introduced her as well, at one point he noticed her lean across her new friend to shake a man’s hand, David McLeod who was head of investment. He had come alone, and was one of the youngest men in the company, but a whizz with numbers, and as yet unmarried. He didn’t hear what his wife said, but he heard David laugh loudly, and didn’t miss the way his eyes were transfixed to Eliza.

In fact, now he came to look around he realised, everyone was looking at his wife. Even him.

It wasn’t right, how she could simply command a room like this. He wasn’t even listening to her conversations but whatever she was talking about had his employees enrapt. He’d warned her, insisted that she remember her place, because her behaviour directly affected peoples opinions of him. He didn’t want his…friends….colleagues… thinking that he was the sort of man to let his wife wear the trousers.

“You know, Eliza, you should stop by he office some time, see how the Hiddleston Empire works, behind the scenes.” Michael’s words caught Thomas’ attention, and then he was listening very, very closely.

“Really? You wouldn’t mind? I think I’d like that.” Eliza nodded keenly.

“We wouldn’t mind at all.” Michael assured her.

“I wouldn’t want to get in the way.” She then turned to Thomas, “Can I do that, Thomas? Come and see the office?”

“What on earth for?” The words left his mouth without him even thinking about them.

“Just…to see how it works, to understand what you do.” She shrugged.

“Eliza asked how many boats we have.” Robert chuckled, highly amused.

“Well it is a shipping company, that was the obvious assumption,” Eliza laughed, and earned herself a rumble of laughter from the other guests, and Thomas rolled his eyes.

“Eliza…Dear… a Shipping Agency is responsible for handling shipments and cargo at ports and harbours on behalf of ship owners.” He explained stonily, “A trip to the office is unnecessary.”

“Oh well… I think I’d still like to.” She told him decisively, and instantly turned back to Michael who’d made the suggestion, “I’ll be sure to pop by one day, I’ll bring cake.”

“Cake… Thomas, you’ve really found yourself a winner here.” Michael held up his glass towards Thomas, “I think it’s time for a toast, as not all of us could make the wedding. To the newlyweds, Lord Thomas and the New Lady Eliza Hiddleston! To many years of happiness…and cake.”

Eliza giggled and raised her glass to Michael’s clinking it, as the other guests joined in.

“To happiness and cake!”

 

“I had a really nice time tonight.” Eliza announced as Thomas unlocked and opened the front door of the Mayfair townhouse. Thomas said nothing, simply shut the door behind them, and moved to help his wife with her jacket. “Everyone was so nice…except Mrs Darling. I don’t like her. You know she and Jacob courted for a long time, he proposed and she declined. She told him…she had no interest in marrying a man who would have to share his already dwindling inheritance with five younger brothers. He was heartbroken…she’s the worst kind of woman. It’s a shame, Mr Darling is such a nice man.”

“And he’s an only child.” Thomas added, “Can you really blame her?”

“She’s a gold digger.”

“It’s hardly any different to our situation.” Eliza stopped at the bottom of the staircase and turned to look at her husband, disbelief evident in her expression. Was he seriously comparing the two situations?

“It’s completely different.”

“How so?”

“I had no choice.”

“And Mary Darling did?”

“She’d have had a comfortable life with Jacob, and he’d have loved her. But she was greedy. Comfortable wasn’t enough for her, and she made that abundantly clear.”

“This conversation is over.”

“It always is.” Eliza mumbled under her breath as she turned to head up the stairs towards the bedroom.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard.”

“Eliza, if you have something to say to me, you’ll stop, turn around and say it to my face.”

Eliza stopped on the bottom step, and turned to face her riled husband, “I said, it always is. You don’t talk about anything, the second a conversation isn’t going your way, you stop it. Just like that. As if it’ll make the problem go away. You hate being wrong, and you hate it even more when I’m right!”

“Eliza, enough. You’ve stepped out of line one too many times this evening. I will not tolerate you speaking to me in this manner.”

“It seems that you don’t tolerate me speaking to you at all. At least when I talk to you like this I have your attention. You know you hardly spoke to me this evening. The second you’d palmed me off on Lilly, that was it.”

“Palmed you off? I thought you’d like her!”

“I do, she’s wonderful.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“The problem is… you keep telling me to remember my place, but I don’t know what my place is because you don’t tell me. You just leave me there to fend for myself and tell me off when I get it wrong.”

“You were raised a lady I expect you to behave like one, is that too much to ask?”

“In what way have I behaved unladylike? By being sociable and friendly? Last time I checked, that’s exactly what I should be doing.”

“By keeping your mouth shut and not drawing attention to yourself.”

Eliza’s lips set into a firm line and her eyes narrowed, “I think it’s time for bed.”

“I agree.”

“Good, that’s at least one thing we agree on.” Eliza turned and continued her journey up the stairs. Once safely in her room she drew the curtains and changed from her gown into a long cotton night dress. She took the pins from her hair letting it fall back to her shoulders and sat in front of her mirror brushing it out until it was soft and tangle free. Gazing at herself she couldn’t quite place it, but she looked different.

It had only been a week. One week of marriage, and she looked like she was carrying a lifetime of misery on her shoulders. She’d actually enjoyed herself at the dinner, she’d made a new friend and met some lovely people. But as always Thomas had to ruin the evening by losing his temper with her. Eliza sighed and set her brush down, then retreated to her bed. She was just tugging back her sheets when there was a quiet knock at the door.

“Yes?”

The door opened and her husband entered, now dressed in his own pyjamas, an attire she’d never actually seen him in. He didn’t look quite as foreboding in a set of pale blue button down pyjamas and bare feet. He stepped just inside and closed her bedroom door behind him, then turned to look at her, running a hand over his hair, which was still in its neat slicked style and shifting awkwardly.

Eliza glanced at him curiously, waiting for him to speak. Then he gestured at the bed, “Well…shall we?”

Oh. Of course. Eliza gave a little nod and crawled under her sheets. She watched Thomas as he strode forward and crawled up on the bed next to her, and tugged the sheets back off of her. A shiver ran over her and she closed her eyes as Thomas pushed her nighty upwards over her hips revealing her bare underneath. Without instruction, she parted her legs for him, and waited for him to do his thing.

His fingers explored her first, only for a few seconds. Then she heard some rustling about and then felt him position himself between her legs, a little of his weight on her as he pushed himself inside of her. It wasn’t comfortable, but to her relief it wasn’t nearly as painful as the first time. Even so, Eliza winced as he drew back and trust forward hard.

She wasn’t sure how long it lasted. She just kept her eyes shut and let her husband move in and out of her, his pace was faster than before, and she wondered if he was in as much of a rush for it to be over as she was. She guessed he was almost done when his breathing started coming out in short grunts and his rhythm became erratic. Then his pace slowed into a stop and with one final grunt he withdrew from her and fell on the bed next to her.

Eliza opened her eyes and chanced a look to her left where her spent husband had fallen. His eyes were closed and head tipped back, a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead. She watched his chest rise and fall with excursion. She hurriedly pushed her nightdress back down to cover her modesty before he gathered himself. When Thomas opened his eyes he looked to his side and leant over to brush a kiss to Eliza’s cheek.

Then he was off the bed, tucking himself back into his pyjama bottoms which he’d not even bothered to remove, and heading for the door.

“Goodnight, Eliza.”

“Night, Thomas.”


	9. NINE

“Well, that was delicious,” Thomas placed his cutlery neatly across his plate and relaxed back into his chair. It was the first time he’d been home from work at a reasonable time all week. Usually he would eat later in the evening and Eliza would already have retired to her bed, or he wouldn’t come home for dinner at all.

But this particular evening Thomas had phoned from the office and told Ruth he would be eating at home. The Housekeeper had instantly flown into a panic, because Eliza had told her to take a half day, and Miss. Betty had already gone home for the day. Eliza had told her not to worry and she would prepare her husbands meal. It wouldn’t be the first time, in fact the past few weeks she’d taken quite a keen interest in cooking and baking. It was one way to pass the time, and even on the days where their cook stayed to prepare the evening meal, she would often help in the kitchen.

Though Thomas didn’t seem any the wiser of the change in staffing, he’d been made aware but he remained unaffected.  As long as dinner was on the table when he returned from the office, then he was quite happy. Eliza realised he probably assumed that Miss. Betty was still preparing his evening meals most days. It wouldn’t occur to him that his wife might be capable of cooking up some of the dishes he’d eaten several times over the past weeks.

Eliza looked up from her own plate. The chicken and gravy pie she’d spent the afternoon working on was really quite nice, if she did say so herself, but she hadn’t expected Thomas to comment on it. He rarely expressed his enjoyment of anything. To be quite honest, it was rare that he spoke to her, or any of his household staff, besides Mr Clarke, at all.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

“I did, I must admit I’ve been quite worried that I might have to start looking for another cook, Miss. Betty has been losing her touch, she really is far too old to still be working a kitchen, but I just feel terrible letting her go, I know she needs the money,” Thomas shook his head, and reached for his wine.

“Actually…” Eliza started, “Miss. Betty wasn’t working this afternoon, I prepared dinner today.”

“I beg your pardon?” Thomas looked at his wife in disbelief, “You’re lying.”

“I most certainly am not!” Eliza put her knife and fork down next to her plate, feeling indignant. How dare he accuse her of lying, “I told you Miss Betty now has two half days in the week. Like you said she’s too old to be running a kitchen. So on those days I cook.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why would you cook? Have Miss. Betty prepare meals which Mrs Connelly can heat easily.”

“I enjoy cooking, I want to cook.”

“And you made this pie?”

“I did.”

“Where on earth did you learn to make a pie?”

“When I helped in the soup kitchen, I was friends with the lady who runs it. Marjorie, she taught me to cook.” Eliza explained, in the briefest way possible, knowing that really, despite asking, her husband didn’t really care how she came to have any culinary experience.

“I see,” Thomas nodded slowly, “Well…I very much enjoyed it.”

“Thank you,” Eliza was quick in her thanks, knowing she was unlikely to ever get any form of appreciation from him again in the near future, she was still quite stunned that he was even eating with her, let alone talking, “This is erm…nice. Dining together, I mean. It’s nice to have you home early,” It wasn’t. That was a lie. But truth be told, Eliza was lonely, a feeling she was very much unfamiliar with. Granted she was rarely alone, with Jenny practically attached to her hip, and she did visit her both her brothers who resided in the city at least once a week, but she didn’t have any true friends anymore, since Tom putting a stop to her helping at the shelter and he’d also forbid her to socialise with certain people, people who did not meet his approval in terms of their social standing.

“Well it’s not without purpose,” Thomas continued to sip his drink as he explained his reasons for returning home earlier than normal, “I have some friends coming over this evening. They’ll be arriving in around an hour and I would ask that you made yourself scarce, perhaps read in your room for a change?”

“You’ll be using the sitting room?”

“I expect we’ll be in here.”

“And you don’t want me to meet them…your friends that is?”

“God no, it’s going to be men, drinking scotch, smoking cigars and playing poker. No… I’d prefer you to stay out of the way.”

“But…I live here,” Eliza felt quite put out if she was honest. Thomas hardly spent any time in their home and then out of the blue he announces he’s having guests and she has to hide.

“Yes?”

“Well… what if I don’t want to stay in my room?”

“Then perhaps you could stay in the kitchen, you seem quite fond of that room,” Eliza pursed her lips, unable to say anything else our of pure anger. How bloody dare he? She looked away and focused back on her dinner, hurrying to finish so she could get away from her horrible husband.

 

“Tommy, my boy, do you have anymore Scotch, you’re clean out,” Thomas looked over to where his friend James held up the cut crystal carafe rather precariously, on the other side of the table. They’d just finished their first round of cards, and were breaking for a minute before going for another game. Thomas was feeling pretty smug having won the first round and a nice wad of bank notes sat on the table next to his drink.

“Ah, yes, it’s probably in the kitchen,” He stood from the table and strode over to the hallway door, swinging it open, “Clarke?” He waited a second, “Clarke?” He called louder the second time. When there was no sign of his trusty valet he headed through the house to the sitting room, which was empty, lights off, then he looked at the cloak stand and noticed Clarke’s jacket and hat were gone, “Eliza?” He called his wife loudly. She appeared at the top of the first staircase in seconds.

“Yes?”

“Have you seen Clarke?”

“I sent him home, he was just sitting in the kitchen and you know it’s his daughter’s birthday.” Eliza took a few steps down, Thomas noticed she was still wearing her day clothes, those high waisted wide leg trousers, and cream blouse, although the blouse was a bit creased and the top few buttons were undone, and her hair was unpinned, falling in gentle waves to her shoulders. His eyes studied her for a moment, unable to help himself appreciating how when all undone like this, she looked more enticing than usual. Although that could be the Scotch talking.

“But I have guests.”

“And Mr. Clarke has a seven year old little girl at home who wants to see her Daddy on her birthday,” Eliza explained, voice soft. She wasn’t arguing, Thomas realised quickly, she was just explaining her side. He hadn’t known it was Clarke’s daughter’s birthday, he’d have sent a gift, “I brought her a doll, from us.”

“Do you know where Mrs. Connelly keeps the Scotch? I’m empty.”

“Yes,” Eliza nodded, and started down the stairs, “I’ll fetch it, you go back to your friends.”

“Thank you.” He watched as his young wife disappeared down the hall towards the kitchen, and then went back to join his friends, assuring the small group that they’d have refills momentarily.

“Well hello… Lady Eliza, I wondered where Tommy Boy was hiding you,” James piped up, and Thomas turned in his seat to see his wife, entering the dining room with two unopened bottles of Scotch Whiskey.

“Good Evening, Gentlemen.” She greeted them with a big smile, then turned her attention to the man who’d addressed her. “James isn’t it? You attended the wedding.”

“I did, my dear. Lovely day, good spread, you looked divine. I told Tommy, he’s a lucky devil.” James had clearly already had a good fill of alcohol, but Eliza smiled sweetly anyway.

“Thank you, James. I understand you’re in need of refreshment?” She held up one bottle, “Let me top you up then I’ll leave you be,” Thomas kept his mouth shut as she placed one bottle on the bar behind them, then opened the other, she topped up the glasses straight from the bottle, as opposed to decanting into the carafe. She set the bottle down in the centre of the table, “Do enjoy your evening,” She turned to leave.

“Wait, aren’t you going to introduce us, Tom?” Another guest spoke up, and Eliza paused, turning back and looking at her husband, her brow arched and a smirk playing on her lips. She’d planned this, Thomas realised.

“Of course, Eliza, you know James of course. This is Edward,” He gestured to a blonde man, with a long face, “Toby,” Toby was red headed and on the tubby side, “And Andrew.” The last man was dark haired, and Eliza noticed his very striking blue eyes, he tilted his glass at her.

“Lovely to meet you all, how do you all know each other?”

“Cambridge.” Thomas answered, before his friends could.

“You studied together?”

“Yes…actually Tommy and I met earlier, we went to school together.” James piped up, “Our families are good friends.”

“Eton?”

“That’s right.” James nodded.

“You should join us for a drink, my Lady,” Toby added, “Tom has hardly told us anything about you. It’s like he’s keeping you all to himself, though I can’t say I blame him.”

Eliza chuckled, and gave her husband a fond look. It was put on, but nonetheless, she gave the appearance of a young woman very much in love with her husband, “I think Thomas would prefer to catch up with you men, without me in the way. But really, it was lovely to meet you. You boys have fun,” Then she leant down to her husband and caught him quite of guard with a peck to his lips, the first kiss she’d ever initiated, and also the first kiss they’d shared since their wedding night, “Don’t be too late to bed though, Dear.”

“Have a drink with us.” Thomas said, suddenly and very decisively, as his wife stood up straight again, “One won’t hurt.”

“Are you sure?” Eliza asked, biting her lip, and he gave one nod. So she fetched herself a fresh glass from the bar and returned to the table, pulling out the empty chair between her husband and James, “You’re playing Poker, who’s winning?”

“I won the first game.” Thomas told her, smugly.

“Oh! Well done!” Thomas grinned at her enthusiasm, “You know, I don’t like to boast, but I’m quite a good hand. I used to play with my brothers.”

“You know how to play?” Andrew asked, surprise clear in his voice.

“Yes. Much to my Father’s horror, I think I was about twelve when I played my first game.”

“You should join the next round.” Andrew told her.

“Oh, I’m not sure I should.”

“I think Eliza would like to get back to her reading, she’s a little bookworm,” Thomas explained to the table.

“I think, Tommy, you’re just afraid of getting beaten by a lady,” James bated his friend, and Eliza giggled.

“Is that true, Thomas?” Eliza teased, lifting her hand and laying it over his, threading her fingers between his, “Are you scared you’ll lose to me?”

“Off course I’m not worried about losing to you, don’t be ridiculous.” Thomas huffed, “Fine, lets play, Toby, you can shuffle.”

“Oh! Let me grab my purse!” Eliza hopped up and ran out the room, only returning when she had her purse in hand, “So what are we playing for, Gentlemen?”

 

“You’re cheating!” Edward, the blonde accused across the table, as Eliza leant forward to collect her winnings…for the third time.

“No…I was bluffing. This is Poker, Edward, surely you understand the concept?” Eliza sassed back at him, earning a guffaw from James.

“That’s you told, Eddie. I tell you Tommy, you’ve got yourself a little firecracker here,” James rested his arm across the back of Eliza’s chair, “Where did you go to school, Eliza? I’ve never met a young woman like you before.”

“I was home schooled,” Eliza admitted.

“Your brothers too?” Toby asked in surprise.

“No, no… my brothers all went to boarding school,” Eliza shrugged, “Anyway, would anyone like another?” She reached for the bottle, but the men shook their heads.

“You know, we ought call it a night, I’m sure Tommy wants you to himself at some point this evening,” James winked at her cheekily and as he did Eliza felt her husbands arm slip around her back, his palm curved around her arm, fingers squeezing gently through her blouse.

Moments later Thomas and Eliza were bidding their guests fair well, all the men insisting that they must do it again sometime. Eliza stood on the doorstep and waved, strongly aware of Thomas’ breath hot on the back of her neck, “Inside, now,” He mumbled quietly, and he allowed her to step back inside so he could close the door. She hurried back through to the dining room too start tidying away, picking up empty glasses and heading through to the kitchen to deposit them by the sink.

“They like you,” Thomas told her, when she came back through, surprising to see him at the table, tidying the cards away.

“I like them…James is very funny, we should have him for dinner soon.”

“James would try to fuck you if I were to turn my back for a single second,” Eliza’s eyes widened in shock at her husbands words, and she gaped for a second, not sure what the suitable response would be, “Fortunately, I don’t intend for you to ever be left alone with him, so it’s not a concern.”

“I…I don’t…I’m married to you, Thomas.”

“Precisely.”

“I’m really sorry for intruding tonight, it wasn’t my intention-”

“It was exactly your intention.”

“I would have left, after fetching your drink…you could have said no!”

“But I didn’t… you see, I was actually rather impressed with your conduct this evening. Granted, it’s not…proper for a lady to drink scotch and gamble with men much older than her, but given that this is our house, and I am your husband, and I know for a fact that my friends care very little about propriety…this evening was fun.”

“It was.” Eliza nodded, smiling, possibly the first real smile in weeks, “I really enjoyed myself.”

“I’m pleased. However, don’t get used to it. This won’t be happening again. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to turn in for the night.” Thomas was abrupt, and Eliza could almost see the conflict in his eyes. He didn’t want to be nice to her, he really struggled, but every now and again he softened. Like earlier when he complimented her meal, and all those weeks ago after he had taken her virginity and then held her whilst she cried. She wanted to say something, as he turned away and headed for the staircase, wanted to thank him for allowing her to join in with his friends. For…being nice to her for once. But one night didn’t make up for a multitude of other occasions when he’d treated her appallingly, and she begrudged letting him think she might be warming to him, because she was absolutely not.

“Thomas,” She called, suddenly, before she realised what she was doing. Then she silently chastised herself because she didn’t even know what she was going to say next. So instead she fell quiet. There was no reply, he’d not heard her apparently. Or at least, he’d not wanted to hear her. She breathed a sigh of relief and turned out the lights in the dining room.

“Eliza,” She took a sharp intake of breath, as Thomas appeared in the soft moonlit glow of the upstairs hallway as she reached the top of the stairs.

“Yes?”

“Come here,” He beckoned her closer, until she was within touching distance, then his hand raised to her cheek and he leant in, his lips brushing hers for the briefest moment, “Good night,” Then he let her go and disappeared into his own bedroom, leaving Eliza alone in the darkened hallway, completely stunned by his uncharacteristic display of tenderness towards her.

 

*

 

Weeks passed, and Thomas settled into a routine.

He woke early, before Eliza and left for the office before she was out of her room. Then he went to the office, and he had to admit, since spending more time there, he was now being taken more seriously. He was loath to admit it, but his father had been right. He was a businessman and he had a job to do. It was his job as acting CEO in his fathers place to make sure everyone in that office knew he was in charge and that he wanted to be involved in how his company was being run.

Thomas wasn’t stupid, in fact he was incredibly smart. He was good at his job and he was also quite good with people when he wanted to be. Negotiation was his strong point and several of the companies major contracts were in place because of his business deals.

But Thomas, like all men, enjoyed his downtime and when his working day finished he almost always found himself back in his favourite Gentlemen’s Club enjoying a stiff drink and on occasion at a different type of club to find himself some company of the female variety, Matilda was his current flavour of the month, because she refilled his drinks without him having to ask, and did magical things with her mouth.

He wasn’t sure if Eliza knew he was still attending such establishments. He didn’t really care, if he was honest. He didn’t know for sure how much she really knew of his proclivities prior to their marriage. She certainly knew he had a reputation for being preferring to spend his time cavorting with women who were most certainly not ladies in dance halls. But he wasn’t convinced she understood what went on behind those doors, especially given how very innocent his little wife was. He’d assumed her virginity, but he’d not expected her to be quite as clueless as she actually was. He didn’t have the patience for inexperience, he liked a woman who knew what she was doing, hence his frequent visits to these, for lack of a better description, upper class brothels.

He’d not actually been out to the Dance Halls in weeks, he couldn’t, not anymore, certainly not without his wife to accompany him and he hated the fact that he now had to resort to paying women to pleasure him to get his rocks off. But such is what his life had become. Of course, there was nothing wrong with the Dance Halls per say, in fact he thought Eliza would probably very much enjoy them, but without the promise of a happy ending to his night, he really couldn’t be bothered with it all.

Mostly, he tried to avoid being at home as much as he possibly could. He often arrived home late at night, would eat a late tea and retire to bed, and often he went days without seeing his wife. He was still sure, once or twice a week to join her in bed, but that was always quick and to the point and it was getting harder and harder to keep trying. Eliza would close her eyes and turn her head to the side, then when he left he would see her curl into a ball under her sheets and sometimes, and god he hated himself for it, he would hear her cry. He was sure he wasn’t physically hurting her, but she certainly wasn’t enjoying herself, and he knew she hated him and he hoped to god she would fall pregnant soon so they could both have a break from it.

But on the rare occasion that they were together, the once or twice a week when they’d dine together mostly at the weekends, or for social outings – they’d visited his parents the previous weekend – she seemed much more refined. She didn’t speak unless spoken to, she did as he asked her, and all in all she was behaving exactly how he wanted her to. Part of him did almost miss her smart mouth and argumentative nature though and that angered him because his wife was behaving exactly how he wanted her to and he still couldn’t stand it.

This particular afternoon he’d left the office early. He often did on a Thursday and Friday. He would nip home and have a light dinner and then be off out again for the evening and his wife didn’t question it. He just presumed she was happier when he wasn’t there. Today however he was intending to dine with James at The Beefstack Club then perhaps later on head elsewhere and enjoy some other form of entertainment. He simply wanted to stop by home first to change his jacket and he’d be on his way. Therefore he gave Clarke the evening off and had Johnson wait with the car outside.

He slipped in quietly, preferring to be able to come and go without alerting Eliza of his presence. If she was home that is. Often if he stopped home during the day she was out with Miss. Jones. Today however was not one of those days, as he carefully closed the latch on the front door as to not make a noise he could hear voices in the sitting room.

It was Eliza that was for sure...and an American female which could only be Lilly because to his knowledge his wife had no other American friends.

“This really is a beautiful house, you’re so lucky,” Thomas stopped before he reached the open sitting room door, and strained to listen.

“Well… I suppose every cloud has a silver lining,” Eliza chuckled but he could hear the mirth behind it.

“Are things still bad?” Still? Lilly spoke like she and Eliza talked frequently, although to his knowledge they’d only over seen each other at the dinner, almost two months back now.

“They were never good…I don’t know,” his wife sighed, “I feel so…lonely. I’m so glad I have you, and Jenny I mean, I know she’s my maid, but she’s a real friend. I’ve not been to visit my Daddy since the wedding, I mentioned visiting to Thomas, and he told me he was too busy. He doesn’t like me going to the market, so I can’t even do my own shopping…I have to go everywhere with Jenny, because if I don’t he knows, he checks with Ruth.”

“You’re so funny, Lizzy, most women would love to have someone do their shopping for them. I wish Bobby’s wage could afford us that luxury,” Lilly giggled, “What about…you know…the other stuff?”

“What…oh…yeah. Well to be honest I’m just hoping I hurry up and fall pregnant. But it’s been three months…his attentions are…frequent I guess.”

“You don’t enjoy it?”

“Am I supposed to? I thought sex was meant to feel good, I mean people make such a song and dance about it don’t they? But it’s just…uncomfortable. I don’t think he likes it either, it’s like he can’t wait to get away from me,” Thomas pursed his lips, if he wasn’t mistaken he heard his wife’s voice crack as she made her admission to her friend. He wanted to step in, how dare she discuss this openly with his employees wife. This was private.

“Oh, Lizzy.”

There was a sniffle, “I just…I don’t know what I’m supposed to do, he’s my husband, I want him to want me. He drives me mad and I can’t stand him most the time, but he’s all I’ve got. I…I wish I knew how to satisfy him.”

“He doesn’t let you-” Thomas’ house keys slipped from his fingers and landed on the wooden floor at his feet in a loud clatter.

“Hello?” It was Eliza now, calling out, he heard her walking across the sitting room, so made his presence known immediately, stepping into the sitting room, “Thomas!” She gasped out, quickly rubbing at her red eyes, “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“You’ve got a guest,” He ignored her comment and moved swiftly passed her as Lilly stood from her seat by the window, “Lilly, how lovely to see you. Eliza didn’t tell me you were coming for tea.”

“Lord Hiddleston,” Lilly nodded, and allowed him to lean in a peck her cheek. Thomas didn’t miss her pink cheeks or sheepish expression, and Eliza looked suitably panicked.

“I told you Lilly and I were friends. We’ve lunched several times, I thought tea would be nice,” Eliza explained quickly.

“I actually should be going,” Lilly cut in quickly, “I’ve got to walk home and the nights are drawing in a bit earlier, I don’t want to leave it too late. Bobby worries.”

“I don’t blame him, I’m constantly telling Eliza not to wonder the streets alone,” Thomas rested his hand briefly on his wife’s arm, “You should take my car, I’ll have Johnson drive you home.”

“Oh no!” Lilly jumped, “There’s really no need.”

“I insist. I’ll walk you out,” Thomas pressed, keen to get his wife alone. But judging by the way her cheeks had paled, this was the last thing she wanted.

“Thank you,” Lilly quickly fetched her purse and then turned to Eliza.

“Lizzy, thank you so much for tea. We’ll do it again soon,” Lilly told her, and Eliza stepped forward quickly, opening her arms to embrace her new friend in a tight hug.

“Thank you for coming,” But her words were heavy and filled with dread, wordlessly telling her friend she was in trouble. Thomas didn’t look back at her as he took Lilly’s arm and lead her from his home. He put her in the back of his waiting car and told Johnson there was a change of plan, and to take Lilly home.

Once inside he found his wife nervously stacking empty tea cups, they clinked on the metal tray as her hands shook.

“Leave the tray,” He told her from the doorway of the sitting room.

“I’ll just put it in the kitchen.”

“I said leave it!” Eliza jumped at his raised voice, and one cup toppled off the tray and landed on the floor with a smash. It was carpeted, but the impact was hard enough for the handle to break and the remnants of tea splattered across the floor. Instantly, his wife was on her knees clearing the mess, “Eliza,” He heard her breath catch.

“I’m sorry,” She mumbled, finally standing up and putting the pieces of the cup on the tray, but still not looking at him.

“Excuse me?” Eliza mumbled something else, and Thomas’ temper was now at boiling point, “Eliza, look at me when you speak to me,” Her eyes darted up and locked with his.

“I’m sorry,” This time her apology was loud and clear.

“What are you sorry for?” Panic flashed across her features. He knew she was second guessing herself. She’d been certain he’d overheard her conversation with Lilly. But now he was questioning her apology.

“Well I…erm…for…your cup. I broke your cup,” She gestured to the tray with the broken teacup, only looking to the side briefly, but long enough for her not to see Thomas’ arm come up and swing quickly and firmly, so his open palm impacted the side of her face as she turned back to him. The impact carried enough force to knock her off balance, and she stumbled and fell almost pathetically to his feet. He stood over her, chest heaving in rage, watching as she cradled her face, and let out a loud sob.

“Get up.”

“Thomas-”

“Get up,” Eliza staggered up, using the mantel piece to pull herself upright, and Thomas could see her visibly shaking, as her right hand cradled her cheek bone. She slowly brought her eyes to his, and he had to swallow down the instant regret, as he saw how terrified she was, “I’ll ask you again. What are you sorry for?”

“For…for talking to Lilly…about…us.”

“About us?”

“Private things, about us.”

“I was foolish enough to think you were finally starting to understand what was expected of you, as my wife. But then I come home and you…you stupid, stupid little girl!” Eliza stepped backwards, as her husbands face reddened with fury as he shouted at her, spittle hitting her in the face, “That woman is married to one of my employees, and she is likely to go home and tell him everything.”

“She won’t, she’s my friend. She’s not going to say anything to Robert about-”

“No one is supposed to know this is an arranged marriage,” Thomas hissed, “But you’ve told her everything. Not only that but you’ve succeeded in telling her what a shambles you think I am in the bedroom, and have made a complete laughing stock out of me. Congratulations, Eliza. Thank you very, fucking, much.”

“No that’s not…that’s not what I did. I didn’t mean to…I needed someone to talk to, I was trying to…I don’t know how to please you. I want to please you and I can’t and you won’t let me, and she’s my friend and she’s married and I was asking her, as a friend, for help,” Eliza scrambled her words together quickly, and Thomas simply scoffed, loudly.

“You want to please me? You want me to want you? Yet you continue to disappoint me…time and time again. I don’t want you Eliza. I didn’t want you three months ago, when you were forced upon me and I certainly don’t want you now.” Eliza nodded in defeat, another sob escaping her lips. She sniffled and used the free hand that wasn’t cradling her quickly swelling cheek to wipe away her tears, “You won’t be seeing that woman again.”

“What?”

“Manners,” Thomas turned away, heading out the room and towards the front door.

“I’m sorry, what do you mean?” She hurried after him.

“I mean, I forbid you to see Lilly unaccompanied again. When I say unaccompanied, I don’t mean without Miss. Jones. I’ll be perfectly clear. The only time you are likely to see her is at the next company meal. Otherwise, if I find out you’ve been in contact with her, you can be assured your punishment will be severe. Secondly, you will not be leaving this house without a chaperone. I’ve been lenient, I’ve allowed you far too much freedom,” He turned as he reached the door pausing only momentarily, “It’s endearing, on occasion, your spirit. But now it stops, you’re not Daddy’s little girl anymore, you are my wife, and I expect you to behave like a lady.”

“You can’t do this, you can’t stop me seeing Lilly, she’s my only friend-”

“This is not up for negotiation,” Thomas turned again, but stopped when Eliza lurched forward, grabbing the sleeve of his jacket, “What are you doing?”

“You can’t do this, please Thomas.”

“I’ll do what I like, Eliza.”

“Where are you going?”

“Out.”

“Where?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“Please, please stay, I’m sorry I am. I want to talk about this, please don’t take her away from me.”

“Enough, Eliza,” With that Thomas swung the front door open and was slamming it behind him seconds later, leaving Eliza alone in the hallway, staring at the door, tears streaming down her pale cheeks.


	10. TEN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time for another chapter - I have to admit, I've been overwhelmed by the response to Chapter 9. It was so difficult to write, and your support as readers has been incredible.  
> Also I received a lovely message via Tumblr this week from a reader, giving me some wonderful feedback about how much they're enjoying this story. It's always so great to get feedback. I write for myself, and it is a hobby and I'd continue to write regardless of the feedback I get on here and on Tumblr, but it always warms my heart to know I'm creating something that others are enjoying. 
> 
> I've actually done something which I've never done before, I've created some artwork to go with this story. I'm not great at this sort of thing, so I apologize for how amateur it is, but I felt inspired!
> 
> Once again, thank you to everyone who had read, commented, and left kudos. You can also follow me on Tumblr -
> 
> <https://finchbaggins.tumblr.com/>
> 
> [](https://ibb.co/3180HJ8)  
> 

“Well, Lady Hiddleston, it would appear congratulations are in order,” Doctor Lovick informed Eliza as soon as Ruth had set his tea on the table beside him in the sitting room and the door had closed behind her. Eliza blinked several times, her own tea cup raised half way to her lips.

Doctor Lovick had arrived on her doorstep a week earlier without Eliza having any knowledge of his planned visit. She was informed that her husband had arranged the appointment, after a round of questioning the previous evening over the last time she’d bled.

It wasn’t a complete surprise. Eliza hadn’t quite been feeling herself, if she was honest and Thomas had noticed, surprisingly. He didn’t pay much attention to his wife and the past couple of months the only time they saw each other was on the evenings Thomas would knock on her bedroom door and she would do her obligation as his wife. There had been a handful of social events which she’d dutifully attended on his arm and on very rare occasions they might dine together.

But ever since that fateful afternoon, the one in which he’d struck her and left her, taking away any smidgen of happiness she had left in her miserable life, he’d gone out of his way to avoid her and she was more than happy with that. Spending her days reading, or tending the pots in the small garden at the back of the house.

Eliza had put her heightened fatigue down to a touch of the blues. She was lonely and miserable and her only real enjoyment currently was her weekly visits to her two brothers homes in the city. But she’d even been finding that difficult, as she struggled keeping up the act of a happily married young woman. She couldn’t talk to Alice and Clara like she once could, as she knew, they would know something was up. She didn’t want either of them telling her brother’s how unhappy she was, so she simply kept her mouth shut.

She asked Thomas if she could visit her Father for a long weekend in the country, she hoped a change of scenery might lift her spirits, and Thomas had, to her utter surprise, agreed. Only on the grounds that Jenny went along with her. She had enjoyed the time with her Father, and even her Step Mother to some extent. She saw her eldest brother, Jacob, who she was delighted to find was on a brief visit from Scotland. The pair spent several hours catching up and walking the grounds, she even mentioned her run in with Mary Darling. Jacob had been surprised by the news, unaware that her husband worked for Hiddleston Shipping, but he didn’t seem affected by news of his past love interest. He’d asked her about married life, and Eliza had skirted the subject. When she left on Monday morning, her brother had hugged her tightly and promised to visit her soon. She hoped it wouldn’t be too long.

Upon her return to London, if anything she’d felt more drained than ever. She had taken to napping in the afternoons before dinner. In the evenings she often found herself woken late in the evening when her husband would come into her bedroom and shake her lightly. She was embarrassed to discover she’d fallen asleep whilst reading, sometimes still dressed in her day clothes, and book on the floor near her chair.

The few days leading up to the doctors visit she’d been quite queasy too, and it was Ruth reporting to Thomas that Eliza had opted to have her hot meal at lunch time, as she had been struggling to finish a heavy meal in the evening, that got him questioning her health.

Doctor Lovick was a nice man, Eliza had to admit. Kind and knowledgeable, he explained in the privacy of her bedroom, why he was there and was he would need to do to establish whether she was in fact, pregnant.

On his first visit he checked her general health, weight, blood pressure, and asked her a multitude of questions, some of which had Eliza blushing to her boots. But he assured her it was all very relevant and completely confidential. Then he’d done an internal exam, in which, knowing what was expected, she had asked Jenny to be in the room with her. It was awkward and uncomfortable, but afterwards, Doctor Lovick informed her that her cervix was high and soft, which meant she was very likely with child. But it might also mean she was about to menstruate. Nevertheless, Thomas was paying big money for the best medical care on offer. So the doctor requested a draw of blood, and informed her the test results may take around a week, but would certainly give a more definite answer.

In the meantime, it was recommended that she eat little and often, keep well hydrated and get plenty of rest. She wasn’t surprised when Thomas didn’t ask how the appointment had gone, or acknowledge the fact that he’d arranged it for her. She supposed she should have thanked him, because she hadn’t thought about having her own doctor in the city and it hadn’t occurred to her what she might do if she fell ill. Had it been left to her she wasn’t sure how she would have arranged the visit. But now she was acquainted with Doctor Lovick and she was quite happy.

“Really? I’m pregnant?” Eliza asked, eyes wide and a bubble of excitement in her lower belly.

“Your test results give strong indication that you are, along with the internal examination, and you estimate it’s been eight weeks since your last bleed. I would date you at around six to eight weeks,” The Doctor explained and sipped his tea, “Are you pleased?”

“Yes,” Eliza nodded, keenly, “Very…my husband…he will be…delighted.”

“I’m sure,” Doctor Lovick set his cup down.

“Is there anything I need to do?”

“Do?”

“My diet…or…I’m not sure. What should I do?”

“Well, you’ve done the important bit, you’ve conceived the child. My advice remains the same as last week. Get plenty of rest, you’ll need it. You don’t need to make any changes to your diet, but eat little and often which will help relieve any nausea or bloating. I do recommend getting at least two hours of fresh air each day. Also dark beer is good for keeping your iron levels up, so perhaps a small glass each day. Oh, and this isn’t such a hardship, but by all accounts the bubbles in champagne are very good for sickness too,” Doctor Lovick chuckled and Eliza giggled, “I’ll schedule a visit for four weeks-time and we’ll see how you’re getting along. But if you have any worries, or experience any unusual pain or bleeding don’t hesitate to call me.”

“Thank you so much, Doctor Lovick.”

“Not at all My Lady, but really. I must be going, I’ve got a clinic at the hospital this afternoon.”

“I’ll see you out,” Eliza nodded.

“Really, there’s no need,” The Doctor stood up, “You rest, and please send my regards to Lord Thomas, I have no doubt he’ll make a wonderful father.”

Eliza’s lips set into a line and she gave a small nod, “Of course. I will. Thank you.”

 

“Does Lord Thomas know you’re visiting?” Jenny asked, as she followed Eliza out to the waiting car, “I can have Ruth call ahead.”

Eliza shook her head, “It’s a surprise, I’m just taking him lunch,” Jenny arched one eyebrow and shook her head. She knew Eliza well enough now to know this was completely out of character for her, and didn’t believe a word she was saying. But Eliza hadn’t confirmed the pregnancy to her maid yet. She felt her husband should be the first to know, so she was taking lunch to his office prepared by Miss Betty, and going to try and see if she could get her husband to spend time real time with her, so she could give him the happy news. “Hello, Johnson, could you take me to Thomas’ office please?”

“Of Course, Eliza.” He smiled, and held the door open for her to climb in the back and get comfortable.

Jenny passed in the basket of food to set on the seat next to Eliza, “Are you sure I shouldn’t come? You know what he said –”

“I’m with Johnson, and then I’ll be with Thomas, I’ll be fine, Jenny,” Eliza insisted.

“Alright, well…have a nice time.”

“I will,” Eliza assured her, as Johnson shut the car door and climbed into the drivers seat.

 

Eliza had never actually visited the office before. Thomas had made it quite clear many months ago that visits were unnecessary. But now she was here with a purpose. Johnson escorted her from the car to the reception desk. There was stern looking woman sitting behind the front desk, with grey hair pulled into a tight bun.

“Excuse me,” Eliza started and the woman turned to her, and nodded acknowledgment at Johnson, who she clearly recognised as her bosses driver, “I’m here to see Lord Thomas Hiddleston, I’m his wife, Lady Eliza.”

The receptionist looked suitably flabbergasted by her sudden appearance in the building.

“Lady Hiddleston, what an honour to finally meet you. The woman shuffled out from behind her desk. My name is Maureen Richards, I run the main reception, I’m sure your husband has mentioned me?”

“Erm…no,” Eliza shook her head slowly, and she saw the complete disappointment in the older lady’s eyes, “But Thomas doesn’t really talk about work away from the office. Have you worked here a long time, Maureen?”

“Twenty-four years,” She answered, quickly, “Twenty-Five in October. I was the first woman in my family to get a job.”

“That’s very admirable. On my husband’s behalf, I should thank you for your hard work…would you mind pointing me in the right direction. I thought I might surprise him with lunch,” Eliza tilted the basket, and turned briefly to Johnson, “I think I’ll be okay from here, I’ll have Thomas call you when I’m ready to be picked up.”

“Of course my lady,” Johnson nodded, and retreated from the building.

“I’ll have his secretary come and meet you,” Maureen told her, hurrying back around the desk.

“Oh no, please. I’m sure I can find it on my own…besides…I did want to surprise him,” Eliza smiled sweetly, wanting the opportunity to have a bit of a snoop around her husbands workplace, and a few minutes without an escort.

“Certainly, My Lady. Lord Hiddleston’s office is on the second floor, you can take the lift, or the stairs just on the right through that door,” Maureen gestured to the dark wood door to her left.  “Then it’s the first door on your left. Are you sure I can’t get someone to escort you up?”

“No, thank you, Maureen.”

Eliza hoisted up the basket of food in her arms and hurried forward, pushing her way through the door to Maureen’s left as instructed. She opted for the stairs, knowing that in few months she would struggle and wanting to make the most of her agile state, whilst it was still intact.

When Eliza peered through the windowed door she was surprised to see a young man at the desk, which she assumed would normally be home to Thomas’ secretary, Olivia. She’d never met the woman, but had spoken to her once or twice on the phone when she needed to send a message to her husband at work.

“Hello,” She said brightly, as she entered, “Who are you? You don’t look like Olivia.”

The young man, who must have been not much older than her, maybe even younger, looked panicked by her sudden appearance.

“Erm…I’m Ted…Edward…Price,” the man stuttered, “Olivia is erm…in a meeting with Lord Thomas, I’m just manning the desk,” His cheeks flushed, and Eliza didn’t miss the thin sheen of sweat on his brow when she approached the Oak Desk and set the basket down on it to relieve herself of the weight, “May I help?”

“Yes, I hope so. I’m Eliza, Thomas’ wife. I’m here to surprise him with lunch,” The mans jaw dropped, and he stared at her silently for a several seconds, so Eliza stepped towards the door next to the desk, with the plaque reading ‘Lord. T. W. Hiddleston, Acting CEO’, “I’ll just go in, I’m sure they won’t mind.”

“Wait!” Edward shot up from his seat, “I mean…it’s a really important meeting. Lord Thomas asked not to be disturbed.”

“But I’m his wife.”

“Yes, but…they won’t be long. It’s a very urgent…meeting. Perhaps…” He gestured wildly at the red chesterfield settee by the window, “Take a seat, I’ll call for some tea,” Eliza sighed, and nodded, resignedly. She moved to the comfortable looking seating area and took a pew. She watched as Edward picked up the phone and made a request to someone for tea to be brought up to her.

“Have you worked here long, Edward?” she asked, eventually, after several minutes of awkward silence and watching the young man sit at the desk, looking uncomfortable and ill at ease.

“Erm no…just a few weeks. I’m an intern.”

“I see,” Just then, a thud was heard behind Thomas’ office door and the unmistakable sound of a high pitched giggle. Eliza frowned, “Will they be much longer?”

“I erm –” Eliza stood sharply, and strode back to the desk, picking up the basket of food and turning back towards the office door.

“Lady Hiddleston, please, I’ll get in trouble,” Edward stood quickly, moving in front of the door and blocking her path.

“This is ridiculous. Get out of my way,” It was rare that Eliza was rude to anyone and she didn’t blame poor Edward, he was simply doing as he’d been instructed. But she wasn’t stupid and she could tell when she was having the wool pulled over her eyes, “Immediately. Do not make me ask again.”

Under Eliza’s hard stare, Edward side stepped out of her way and she hurried forward, shoving the door open without knocking, almost surprised when it actually opened. She’d almost expected it to be locked from the inside.

Eliza knew from the strange noises she’d heard outside, it was certainly not a business meeting going on between Thomas and his secretary. She’d also been certain for quite some time about her husband’s questionable fidelity to her. The late nights and weekends in which he basically didn’t come home at all. The strong smell of perfume and cigarette smoke when he joined her in her bed some nights. His lack of interest in his own wife. She’d told herself not to worry about it, that it was normal and most men had a mistress. It was none of her business. She was only his wife after all.

But she’d not steeled herself for what she would see on the other side of that door.

She couldn’t look away from the sordid show her husband and secretary were inadvertently putting on for her. The woman, she assumed, Olivia, was lain back across a large varnished mahogany desk, skirts bunched up to her waist and her breasts trussed up and spilling out at the neckline. As Eliza’s husband stood between her thighs, one of her legs up and ankle resting on his shoulder, his own trousers and underwear dropped to his thighs and his hips pistoned into hers.

For a while they were completely unaware of her intrusion. It was only when the woman’s head tipped to the side and her eyes opened, and landed on Eliza in the doorway, that a shriek left her lips. Thomas was almost kicked backwards as Olivia shoved him away and snapped her legs closed, and he opened his mouth to protest, full of confusion, until his eyes landed on his wife.

“Eliza,” He gasped out her name, as he pulled up his trousers and shoved himself away to cover his modestly, with no care for the woman on his desk who was struggling with her skirts and making herself decent, “What on earth do you think –”

Eliza cut him off, feeling bolder than she ought, she stepped confidently forward, set the basket on the edge of the desk, just occupied by her husband’s whore, and held a hand out to the woman, “You must be Olivia, we’ve not met properly. I’m Lady Eliza Hiddleston.”

“I…I…” the woman didn’t take her hand, and looked helplessly at Thomas.

“Leave,” For a moment, Eliza thought her husband was talking to her and was about to protest. But then she saw Olivia nod timidly, and get off the desk, now she’d recovered a decent level of dress, she looked at the floor as she hurried out the room, and Thomas followed to shut the door behind her.

Before Thomas could get a word in, Eliza spoke again, “I brought lunch, prepared by Miss. Betty. I thought I might surprise you,” she reached into the basket and started pulling out its contents, setting out the parcel of fresh bread, cheese and meats, then some fruit and shortbread.

“You should have called ahead,” Thomas’ voice was quiet, lacking its usual confidence. To her surprise he didn’t sound angry either, maybe defeated?

“Well, then it wouldn’t have been a surprise, would it?”

“Eliza –”

“How long?”

“What?”

“How long have you been fucking her?”

“Eliza, Please!”

“What? Oh I’m sorry, is it because I said ‘fuck’? Should I be calling it something else?”

“She’s worked for me for around six months.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“Yes. It does.”

“Do you love her?”

“What? No…don’t be absurd. She’s married for starters.”

“So are you.”

“Yes, well.”

Silence fell between them and Eliza took a step back from the desk, not looking at her husband. The gravity of what she’d just witnessed suddenly hitting her full force and she stumbled a little, feeling dizzy.

“I hate you,” three very simple words and she couldn’t even look at him as she said them.

“I know.”

“Is that all you have to say?” Eliza choked, willing herself not to cry. She didn’t care, not about him being unfaithful. But she did care that he’d made her life a living hell, and he’d still lied to her. She was about to have a child with this man and she couldn’t even stand the sight of him, “Why? Thomas? Please tell me exactly what I’ve done to you to deserve this?” She was screaming at him now, suddenly up in his face without realising that she’d crossed the small room. “You’ve ruined my whole life, you’ve made my existence completely pointless. I have nothing. I don’t have any friends, I have no hobbies, I can’t talk to my family because it would break them if they knew what they’d forced me into,” a sob bubbled up from her throat and she failed to choke it down. But there were no tears, “And you still get to live your life! That’s the worst part…you still go around being the worlds biggest arsehole, and fucking everything with legs, and no one says anything because you’re the untouchable, Lord Thomas William Hiddleston.”

“Eliza, that’s enough,” he’d found his voice, and his words came across as stern.

“Of course it’s enough! It’s always enough, the second you don’t like what you’re hearing. Well it’s about time you heard it, Thomas. You’re a horrid man, and I wish I’d never married you. Living with my Father and dying a spinster would be preferable to the hell you have turned my life into. You are nasty and selfish and the thought that I’ve ever let you so much as touch me, makes my skin crawl,” Eliza stopped abruptly, a wave of nausea flooding through her. She took several deep breaths to steady herself. “I think I’ll go.”

 

“Eliza wait.” Thomas found himself going after her, as she abandoned the picnic lunch she’d haphazardly lain out on his sordid desk and headed for the exit. Guilt. He hated it.

He managed to push it down most the time. He avoided his bride because it was constantly bubbling to the surface whenever he spent too much time in her presence. But the second he'd lain eyes on her face, her eyes having just witnessed a graphic display of his infidelity to her, and despite her boldness, and anger, the deep hurt he'd caused her was plain to see.

He’d felt awful after he’d struck her all those weeks ago, and avoided her for days after. But when he'd seen her a while later there was still a mottled bruise of purples, blues and greens decorating her pretty cheek. He’d never struck a woman in his life, and his little wife most certainly hadn’t deserved the punishment. But once again he’d let his frustration and anger take over. He hated how little control he had over his own life and he’d been momentarily compelled to teach her a lesson. But he’d not been able to look at her until the bruising had cleared completely and he'd not been able to deliver the apology which remained on the tip of his tongue, for he knew it would make no difference. He’d successfully broken her.

Now, once more he wanted to spill apologies. But for what? He did not truly feel guilty for laying with another. If he apologised for one, would he have to apologise for them all? There had been multiple. But for the suffering he’d caused the young woman who’d been forced upon him. There were no words which could take away what he’d done to her.

“What?” she asked, as she swung the door open and marched through his small reception area, ignoring Olivia who was there nervously at the desk. Edward was nowhere in sight.

“L...let me call Johnson to drive you home.”

Eliza didn’t answer him, she grimaced and spun back round and continued her hasty exit, leaving Thomas standing helplessly in front of Olivia's desk staring at the door as it closed loudly behind his angry wife.

“Sir...” Olivia mumbled quietly after a few moments of silence. She’d stood up and moved around the desk, one hand lay on Thomas' sleeved arm. He threw his arm out making her stagger backwards

“What are you still doing here? I thought I asked you to leave?”

“But Sir...I –”

“I said leave. Clear you desk, collect your bag and leave. I don’t want to see you in this building again. Your reference will be in the post.”

Thomas had found himself unable to return straight home. He'd ordered a cleaner to his office to have the place scrubbed from top to bottom, whilst he watched, and drank straight from the bottle of red wine his wife had packed in their lunch basket.

Then when Johnson picked him up, he’d not asked after Eliza. He was already half way drunk as he directed his driver to take him to the Beefstack Club and park up . A Gentleman’s Social Club just off Leicester Square. It was the first club he’d joined out of University and it wasn’t as stuffy as Boodles or Bucks – although Bucks was good because it was within staggering distance of his front door.

He dined with some men he would call acquaintances more than friends and played cards and moved from wine to scotch. Alcohol. He knew on his more sober days he drank far too much, if there was such a thing, but he also wasn’t quite sure where he'd be without it.

By the time he fell back into his drivers waiting car he was on a different plain. The mixture of whiskey and wine was unsettled in his stomach and he had to ask Johnson to pull over twice on the short drive home in fear he may be sick. He was looking forward to falling into bed and passing out. He might even skip work the next day in favour of sleeping.

But it was not to be, as the moment he staggered up his front steps he was met by a frantic Mrs. Connelly and a pale Mr. Clarke telling him that they’d been trying to locate him all evening and that Eliza was in hospital.


	11. ELEVEN

After Eliza had almost run down the two flights of stairs and darted past a very confused Maureen on reception, without even a goodbye, it had taken her a while before she realised she’d been stomping down the busy London street with no idea where on earth she was going or even where she was for that matter.

She knew the city well enough, the major bits that was. But where she was now, wherever Thomas' office was located she’d never had a reason to visit. It looked to be mostly offices. Men in suits hurried around her and she just kept walking. It did occur to her that perhaps she could ask for directions or stop a passing taxicab. But then she'd end up going home and she wasn’t ready for that yet.

So Eliza continued her walk, subdued and not really taking in the place around her. It was London after all and in her experience, limited though it was, if you kept walking long enough you’d eventually see somewhere you recognised.

She’d kept her purse clutched to her person and was thankful she’d not put it down with the food, as she may well have forgotten it and she was getting quite hungry. Regardless of what she felt about her husband, the baby inside her was hers too and she knew better than to put her health in danger by not eating. Eventually she came to an area with a market and several cafés.  

The one she entered was small and cosy, and she was fully aware of all eyes on her as she approached the counter. She asked for tea, and a Chelsea bun, both were set down on the counter and she carried them to a small table in the corner herself. It was not the sort of establishment that she was used to. Although she had to admit the tea was nice, and she’d been even more hungry than she’d realised.

“We don’t get your sort in ‘ere all that often,” a plump old woman in an apron stopped in front of her table to top up her tea.

“My sort?” Eliza asked, absently.

“You posh sort. Are you lost?”

“Oh…no. Not lost. I just felt like a change of scenery…this bun is superb. Did you bake it?”

“I did, love. Would you like another?”

Eliza nodded as she finished off her first, “Please.”

She spent most of the afternoon in that café. The owner didn’t seem to mind her there, she was money in the till after all and when she left she dropped some coins in the tip jar.

“Excuse me?” Eliza asked, as she thought to leave. The old lady had been wiping down tables and the baked goods were being put away. She was closing for the day and Eliza realised if she didn’t get home soon it would be dark, “Might you have a telephone I could use?” she pulled out her purse knowing money talked in these situations.

“I’m sorry love. No phones in ‘ere,” the woman shook her head.

“Oh... I see,” Eliza thought for a moment, “Well could you point me to the nearest bus stop?”

“Where you heading?”

“Mayfair.”

“You’ll want the twenty-four. Take a right, to the end of the square, left and straight on. Left at the end and you’ll be on the main route. You can’t miss it.”

“Thank you so much.” Eliza nodded politely, “And for your hospitality.”

As she stepped back out into the street Eliza hadn’t realised how low the sun had gotten. The thick London smog was settling over the streets and the stall keepers were packing away for the night. She folded her arms around herself and hurried along in the direction given.

Eliza found the bus stop easy enough. Along a long main street opposite a dark grassy area she presumed to be a park. She checked the times pinned up and it told her buses on her route ran every thirty minutes. She had no idea how long since the last one or what the time was, so she stood at the edge of the pavement and looked down. The roads were quiet. The odd cyclist went past and one or two cars. In the distance towards the end of the street she could see the street lamps lighting one by one as a lamp lighter made his way along the main road. Still a fair distance from her and she bet it would be almost completely dark by the time he reached her bus stop. She hoped the bus might come before then.

“Well, what do we have ‘ere then?” Eliza jumped at the voice, which came from behind, but close,  almost directly in her ear. She clasped herself tighter, fingers gripped her purse and turned to see two men also in the vicinity of the bus stop. Both were dressed as one would expect for the working class, brown trousers, long sleeved shirts, with braces and waistcoats and flat caps adorned their heads. But their hats were pulled low obscuring their eyes to an extent and Eliza immediately felt threatened.

She toyed between completely ignoring them and running away. Then she decided, no, showing her fear might egg them on. So she was polite and courteous and hoped her bus would arrive soon, “Good evening,” she nodded and turned back to the road, instantly realising that turning her back on these men was a mistake.

“She’s a pretty one, ain't she, Fred?” one of the men addressed the other.

“That she is. Nicely turned out. Looks lost though. Do you think she’s lost?”

“I would say so. Are you lost, love?”

“I’m fine. Thank you,” Eliza mumbled quietly, keeping her eyes fixed firmly on the road, her arms tightening around herself even more.

But when the smell of stale sweat and tobacco filled her nose and the warmth of a man’s breath touched the back of her neck, she flew around. She shoved the culprit away quickly in self-defence. Not quick enough though, as the offending man, the one not called Fred grabbed her forearms and held her in such a tight grasp she found herself immobilized, and heard her purse drop to her feet. “Now, now, don’t he like that little dove. We’re just being friendly,” he teased as she struggled in his grasp.

“Please, please let go of me,” she pleaded, breathlessly, trying to pull herself free.

But he didn’t, instead he pulled her close to his body, one arm tight around her back and one hand gripping her hip. Eliza was so terrified of the man holding onto her, that she’d not seen the other man pick up her purse and start rooting through it. 

A long whistle came from behind her, then the other man, Fred, spoke,  “Look ‘ere Guv.”

“Fuckin' ‘ell you really aren’t just a pretty face are you?” she knew he’d most likely taken out her small wad of bank notes. She was now regretting not leaving most of it at home, what was she thinking going around with that much money on her person? She was asking for trouble.

“Please don’t hurt me...please… you can have the money.”

“Oh, I don’t think so,” the one holding her growled and she felt his hand dragging her skirts up her thigh. Her heart raced faster, and she started fighting harder against his hold. 

“Please...my husband...he’s very rich. I’m sure we could come to some sort of arrangement,” Eliza knew then, using her husband for help out of a situation, she was truly desperate.

“Do you think I’m stupid?” then she started struggling again, with more fever this time. She managed to free her arms from where they’d been trapped and lashed out, catching the man across his face, if she could just move her legs in her stupid skirt she might be able to really hurt him and make a run for it. She did manage to get a few hits in though, before a second set of arms grabbed her, then she shrieked, loudly.

“Oi!” Eliza felt herself flood with relief at the sudden intrusion of a third voice, “Get off her, leave her alone!”

She was released quickly and thrown hard to the ground in the process, her face hitting the pavement and everything went black.

 

*

Thomas’ inebriated state was obvious to Ruth and Mr. Clarke the second he walked through the door to their anxious bombardment regarding his wife. Evident mostly by his cloudy expression and then moments later him spilling the contents of his stomach over the hardwood floor of the lobby in his Mayfair Townhouse.

His staff were familiar with this behaviour though, and nothing was said. Instead Mr. Clarke ushered his master to his bedroom to clean him up, whilst Mrs. Connelly prepared a strong coffee and even Johnson stepped in to help mop the floor. Twenty minutes later he was in fresh clothes, plied with water and coffee and in the car on his way to the hospital.

Ruth had explained as he’d chugged water that it was Doctor Lovick who had called the house after being informed his patient was in accident and emergency following a mugging in Shoreditch, near Bunhill. After calling the office and being told he'd left for the day, Clarke had been making enquiries with his usual haunts, but most told him that even if he was there, policy stated it was confidential. Ruth had sent Jenny ahead in a taxicab, to be with Eliza.

None of his staff could tell him anything about his wife’s condition and the whole journey he was in turmoil wondering what state she would be in. How on earth had she ended up in Shoreditch of all places that was miles from his office? A good hours walk. This was his fault, he should have insisted she wait for Johnson.

But then, he’d warned her not to wonder the city alone, for this very reason. God, she infuriated him.

When he arrived at the hospital, a nurse lead him to the private room they’d put Eliza in and opened the door. He marched in, Miss. Jones had been sat in a chair by the bed, talking quietly with Eliza who was set up comfortably. When the young maid looked up and realised it was him, she flew from her seat, and dipped her head in greeting, “My Lord.”

“Miss. Jones,” He acknowledged her, then tilted his head towards the door, and the girl hurried out, so he approached his wife, aware of the nurse still in the doorway behind him. He stood over her, and took in her appearance. She was pale and along the right side of her faze was grazed, and swollen. He noticed her left foot elevated on pillows. “Eliza, thank God,” He breathed, and leant over her, to brush his lips on her cheek, but she turned her head away as he reached her. So instead he lay his hand over hers, and took the seat Jenny had vacated, “What on earth were you doing in Shoreditch? You silly, silly girl!” He chastised, unable to help himself.

“You’re drunk,” was all Eliza said, not looking at him.

“That’s hardly the issue, Eliza.”

“You stink, please move your chair away. I’m feeling quite nauseous as it is.”

Thomas considered arguing, but instead he nodded, taking his hand back and shuffled the chair a few inches away from the bed, “Have the police been called? Have you spoken to them? Mrs. Connelly says you were mugged.”

“Of course I’ve spoken to the police. It was hardly a mugging, I was attacked, it just so happened that I dropped my purse in the process and they took it,” Eliza explained, matter of fact.

“Christ,” Thomas shook his head, “Well, are they doing anything, the police?”

“I’m sure they’re doing all they can, I’ve given a statement and a description of the two men. They spoke to the gentleman who found me too. They said it’s quite unlikely they’ll find them, these things happen every day,” Eliza explained, “It’s fine…I’m fine. I’ve learnt my lesson. No wandering around on my own.”

“Two? You were accosted by two men?”

“Yes.”

“And what happened? Did they touch you?”

“Well one of them grabbed me. The other went through my purse.”

“Grabbed you how? What did he do to you? This is not good enough, I’m getting the police right back here now and insisting they raise a full investigation,” Thomas was rising from his seat, a veil of red clouding his vision at the thought of another man touching his wife in any way.

“Oh for god’s sake, Thomas, sit down!” Eliza snapped, “Stop making a scene, I’m fine. Nothing bloody happened.”

“That’s not the point, it almost did,” he seethed, “You could have been really hurt.”

“I’m surprised you even care.”

“I care that another man had tried to get his hands on you, has tried to…to…” before Thomas could finish what he was attempting to say, there was a knock on the door and it opened to reveal Doctor Lovick.

“Ah, Lord Hiddleston, the nurse said you’d arrived,” the Doctor smiled at him, and then approached the bed, “How are you feeling Lady Eliza?

“Fine. Can I go home?”

“We’d like to keep you in over night, just to be safe,” Doctor Lovick told her and then turned back to Thomas, “May we speak outside, Sir?”

“Of Course,” Thomas stood up, shooting Eliza a concerned glance before following the doctor outside.

 

“She’s a flighty one isn’t she, your wife?” Doctor Lovick smiled across his desk at Thomas.

“Oh, she’s certainly very strong willed,” Thomas agreed, “To her detriment, most of the time, I fear.”

“She’s been very lucky today, Sir. A minor sprain to her left ankle where she fell. I recommend her keeping her weight off it completely, with several days bed rest, I’m sure I can rely on you to ensure that happens.”

Thomas nodded, “Certainly, Doctor.”

“Lady Eliza has a mild concussion, she lost consciousness, only for a few seconds. So we’d like to just keep her over-night, but all being well we’ll discharge her home tomorrow morning,” Thomas nodded again, “Like I said, given the circumstances, things could have been much worse for her, but I’ve completed a thorough examination this evening, and all looks well. But I would suggest keeping a close eye on her, plenty of rest and if she complains of any pain whatsoever, please call me. You really can’t be too careful in her current condition.”

“Because of the concussion?” Thomas frowned.

“Because of the pregnancy.”

“Pregnancy?” Thomas almost choked on the word.

“Well yes, what did you… you didn’t know?”

“I had no idea. She didn’t mention last weeks visit. I assumed she’d started to bleed,” He felt light headed again now, like the caffeine was wearing off, and his mouth was dry, “Could I…would it be possible to get some water?”

The doctor stood and went over to a sideboard where a jug of water sat with some empty glasses. He poured a glass for Thomas, and set it on the desk in front of him, before taking his seat opposite again, “I told her there was a strong possibility and took a draw of blood. I delivered the results today, late morning. She was very excited. She was keen to tell you.”

“I’m afraid she did not,” Thomas shook his head, “How far?”

“I’ve estimated eight weeks. She’s a healthy young woman and everything seems perfectly normal at this stage,” Doctor Lovick explained, “Like I said, she’s been incredibly lucky that today didn’t end up worse, but it’s still important for her to get plenty of rest. She’s had quite a shock.”

“Of course,” Thomas said between sips of water, “Thank you, Doctor.”

 

She was furious when Thomas had entered her hospital room. Although she knew he’d show up eventually, she’d mostly been hoping that he wouldn’t bother. How dare he walk in and behave like the doting husband, concerned for his weak little wife.

Jenny had been good enough to bring her fresh clothes and a nightgown and hadn’t uttered a word about her absent husband. Though she doubted her maid was hardly surprised. Eliza knew better than to seek counsel on her marriage from her teenage employee, but it was very clear to every member of household staff that their marriage was not a happy one. Not one person had uttered a word when she’d appeared one morning with a bruised and swollen hand print across her face.

Despite her fury at his attendance, she was also surprised how long it had taken Thomas to show up. Or at least acknowledge her whereabouts. Then when she’d smelt the alcohol on his breath, seen the dilation of his pupils and heard the slight slur in his words, she knew. Of course, he'd been drinking. When was he not?

Her husband re-entered the small hospital room, now with the curtains drawn and lit dimly by the lamps. He took a seat by her bed again and she stared at the wall in front of her, unwilling to acknowledge his presence.

“Doctor Lovick insists on keeping you in, but I'll return tomorrow morning to escort you home,” he told her, his voice strangely hollow.

“You can just send Jenny with Johnson,” Eliza told him, “I'll need help to dress.”

“Of course. I'll ensure Jenny is here early to assist you.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re pregnant.”

So Doctor Lovick had broken the news. It hadn’t occurred to Eliza to mention to her Doctor that shed not yet had chance to do so herself, “I planned to tell you over lunch.”

“Yes. I know,” well at least he had the good sense to realise she’d had every intention of telling him first.

“The staff don’t know yet. Not even Jenny. Just me...and Doctor Lovick. Now you.”

“Are you happy?”

“Yes. Of course,” she didn’t sound happy though, “I’m sure you are quite relieved.”

“I...I am happy, Eliza. Truly.”

“Let’s not pretend this is more than it is, Thomas. We are both the same people we were when we woke up this morning,” Eliza rolled her eyes, she had no idea what her husband, uncharacteristically stuttering and awkward was trying to achieve by lying to her about his feelings. He’d told her himself, months ago, that he’d prefer to not have any children at all.  

“Of course...I should leave. It is late. You’ve had quite a shock today. The Doctor says you need plenty of rest,” Eliza ignored him, shifting a little in her bed to get comfortable, “Sleep well, Eliza,” he didn’t attempt any form of physical affection, he simply stood, gave her a polite nod and left.

When the door shut behind him, Eliza released the long shaky breath she'd been holding all evening and the sobs started rising up painfully from her chest. This time accompanied by a waterfall of hot, stinging tears that rolled down her cheeks and dripped from her chin.


	12. TWELVE

After asking her husband to send Jenny with Johnson to escort her home from the hospital, Eliza had assumed Thomas would hide away and work and they’d quickly fall back into their usual routine of being passing ships in the night. Perhaps she’d even see him less now there was no longer a requirement for his late night visits to her bedroom.

So, she was unable to gather any suitable words when she was wheeled out of her hospital room to find him waiting for her in the corridor, talking to Doctor Lovick and handling her discharge papers.

“Eliza, there you are. How are you feeling?” he'd asked, and anyone would have thought his concern genuine, the way he stepped quickly forward and dropped to one knee to match her level in the wheelchair. The way his eyes scanned her thoroughly to check for any signs of discomfort, “Your colour is better this morning.”

“My sickness doesn’t normally set in until early evening.” she told him stiffly, and Doctor Lovick chuckled.

“That’s quite common,” he explained when he noticed Thomas' confusion, “Many women experience their morning sickness throughout the afternoon and evening. Some even during the night.”

Thomas simply nodded, and stood to shake the doctors hand.

 

The car journey back to Mayfair was awkward and silent. Jenny sat up the front with Johnson whilst Thomas had wordlessly insisted on sitting next to her in the back and when they arrived home he'd stopped her attempting to exit the car alone.

“Please, you aren’t to put any weight on your ankle,” he told her, “Please allow me to carry you in.”

“There is really no need. I can just lean on Jenny,” Eliza countered, feeling utterly ridiculous having all this fuss over a sprained ankle and a little bump to the head.

“Eliza,” He only needed to say her name, in that low, warning tone and she relented with a small nod. Johnson held the door open whilst Thomas leant in and wrapped one arm around her back and slid one beneath her knees, being extra careful not the pull or ruffle her skirt, “Put your arms around my neck,” and she did, although she wanted to put her hands around his neck and strangle him. She laced her fingers together and allowed him to lift her from the car, and carry her indoors, upstairs and deposit her gently on her bed.

“Thank you,” she mumbled, not forgetting her manners but loath to actually say the words to him. He stepped back and looked at her a little sceptical.

“Shall I send for Miss. Jones?”

“No. Just pass my book and I’ll be fine,” she insisted.

“Would you like tea? I’ll ask Mrs. Connelly to bring some up.”

“No. I don’t want tea.”

“Right.”

“You can leave,” her words came out perhaps harsher than she’d intended and she felt a pinch of regret. For whatever reason, perhaps the knowledge of her injury and the fact she was incubating his child meant for the first time, ever, in their marriage, Thomas was acting out of kindness. But she didn’t want him to, and that’s what was frustrating her. She didn’t wish to see him at all.

“Right. Of course,” he nodded, but still lingered in the room.

“Do you need something?”

“No…I don’t. I’m just…would you mind if I sat with you?” Thomas gestured to the armchair by the window. Eliza blinked at her husband in confusion, she’d just told him he could leave. She presumed he would be anxious to get away, simply doing what was expected of him as her husband. Now he was asking to stay with her and she had no idea why.

“I…erm…” she stuttered, not sure what to say. Of course she didn’t want him to stay, she just wanted to sleep, if truth be told. She certainly didn’t want him watching her whilst she did, “Don’t you need to get to work?”

“No, I don’t,” he shook his head, “Michael Darling is taking over my meetings until you are completely recovered.”

“Why? That seems a bit extreme.”

“Eliza, yesterday you were brutally attacked. That happened because I didn’t ensure your safety. I should have insisted upon you waiting for Johnson to drive you home, I –” Thomas stopped abruptly, pursing his lips and shaking his head quickly, “Never mind. I’ll come back to check on you later on.”

As she watched her husband leave the room and close the door gently behind him, it hit her like a tonne of bricks. He felt guilty. He blamed himself for what had happened to her. His attentiveness was all down to him trying to redeem his guilt. Eliza rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling, and couldn’t help but let out a harsh chuckle. It was almost hilarious, that the one thing which her awful husband felt bad about, and wanted to try in any way possible to make up for, was the one thing she didn’t blame him for in the slightest. She blamed herself entirely for what had happened, she’d been stupid, she’d thought she’d known better and she’d done what not only her husband, but numerous people had told her not to do – wander the city alone.

 

Eliza was woken some while later by a light tap on her door, and she lifted her head, bleary eyed and not sure exactly when she’d drifted off. It was Jenny, carrying a tray which she set down next to the bed.

“I’m sorry to wake you, Lizzy. Lord Thomas insisted you should eat to keep your strength up.” the girl said, “Miss Betty made Pea and Ham Soup, and I fetched some bread from that bakery you love.”

“Thank you,” Eliza responded, groggily, pushing herself into a sitting position wincing as she forgot about her swollen ankle. Jenny was at her side quickly, helping her the rest of the way and arranging pillows around her. Then she picked up the tray and set it on Eliza’s lap.

“Erm… I suppose I should say congratulations,” Eliza looked up from her bowl of soup, confused for a second, before it set in. Of course, Thomas had likely made the staff aware of the pregnancy.

“Yes…Thank you. I wanted to tell you, but I thought Thomas should know first.”

“Absolutely. You must be very excited.”

“Well…there’s a long way to go yet,” Eliza ripped off some bread and dunked it in her soup, “How is he? My husband,” Curiosity got the better of her, she felt her earlier dismissal may have hurt his pride somewhat.

“He’s…well he actually seems in very good spirits. He’s been on the telephone to the police station. He’s also informed both your families about yesterday, your Father sends his love. He’s hoping to visit, I believe.”

“He’s always saying that he’s hoping to visit,” Eliza sighed, “I expect he’s told them about the pregnancy too.”

“I don’t believe so. Not that I heard anyway.”

“Were you eavesdropping, Jenny?” Eliza smirked, chastising her maid teasingly, and Jenny giggled.

“Well, I was just organising your crochet in the sitting room, and the telephone is just outside in the hall,” she said innocently, but a telling smile played on her lips, then her expression turned serious, more professional, “Are you comfortable enough? Can I do anything else for you?”

“No, thank you, Jenny. I’m quite comfortable.”

 

*

 

Thomas kept to his word and didn’t attend the office for the next few days, even after the weekend, when Eliza ventured downstairs to her sitting room for the first time, he still refused to return to work.

He’d left her alone for the most part, as that was what she seemed to want. She’d spent a fair amount of time sleeping, and Mrs. Connelly had recounted how tiring those early weeks of pregnancy were, and adding on top of that the recent shock Eliza had experienced, it wasn’t surprising that she simply wanted to sleep.

It was unusual for Thomas to spend so much time at home, at first he’d been at quite a loss at what to do with himself. He’d pottered in his study, sorting through paperwork, and doing everything he could to avoid thinking about what he was actually feeling for the young woman upstairs.

He felt almost like a mist had cleared. He knew he’d been awful to her, he’d been aware of how much he was breaking her with every word that ever left his mouth, every threat, and every new rule he set. But it seemed, his anger at the situation had driven him to behave in a way which he was more than ashamed of. With his remorse for his actions, was also the realisation that the young woman he’d married was much stronger than he’d ever given her credit for, and that was admirable. Even now, after everything, she had the courage to stand up to him.

He thought back to what Mr. Wilson had said to him on the morning before he said his vows. She was a force to be reckoned with. Given the chance, together they could be quite the formidable partnership. But he’d not given her or their marriage a chance. It’s very occurrence in his life he’d squashed down without thought. He’d blamed Eliza though she was as innocent as him, if not more so, and treated her with cruelty and the one thing she’d asked of him, and it truly was the only request she’d ever made to him, was to be treated with the respect a wife deserves. He had done nothing but disrespect her from the second she’d moved into his home. Be it disrespecting her morals, opinions or dignity. He'd not only lacked due respect, but completely decimated her.

He had always refused to believe himself to be anything less than fair, although harsh at times. But now he realised he truly had behaved like a monster.

“May I join you?” Thomas asked his wife, a short while after Jenny had finished setting her up comfortably in an armchair, with a cup of tea and a pile of books to keep her entertained. A small nod was all he needed to fully enter the room and sit himself in the chair by the window, his own book in hand. “How are you feeling?”

“Well rested.”

“I thought you might like to know I’ve spoken to the police and obtained the details of the gentleman who came to your aid. I’ve sent off a letter of our gratitude this morning and a cheque with a handsome reward,” Eliza looked up from her book, eyes wide with surprise.

“Really?”

“Yes. It’s the very least I could do after all.”

“Of course. Thank you, Thomas.”

“I also had the thought that perhaps in one or two weeks we might take a trip to Sussex. To visit your Father? I had of course made him aware of the incident. But I thought you might like to tell him about the...baby. In person that is?”

“We? You’d come as well?” Eliza looked almost hesitant.

“Yes. If that would be alright with you?”

“Well I can hardly say no, can I?” the ire in her tone was overpowering and Thomas could feel the hatred she felt towards him coming off of her in waves. Strangely, in that moment, as he looked at her, dressed casually in a long sleeved tea dress, and her hair pinned up in a relaxed style, even with her still swollen cheek and a scowl on her face, it occurred to him just how lovely she really was.

Thomas turned his attention to his own book and tried to read, as silence fell between them once more. He’d noticed, in their time living together and the constant changing of books on the little table in the sitting room, and on the bedside table by her bed, that Eliza devoured novels. He wasn’t sure if it was mostly out of boredom, because thanks to him, she had little else to occupy her time, or if she’d always been such an avid reader.

Though the book in her hands now, was one he’d seen her reading before. He’d been the one to recommend ‘Of Human Bondage’ in one of their first proper meetings, in the library at Bedgebury. She’d been completely scandalized by the suggestion that it might…broaden her horizons. Although now she seemed unperturbed by it. Of course, Thomas already knew it was not nearly as scandalous as its title suggested, but it was simply to, as he told her – broaden her horizons – open her eyes, to other types of literature. There was nothing wrong with stories about forbidden love, and ghosts, and…secret gardens (because that book was permanently by her bed) but she was an adult and she should read like one. How else was she supposed to continue life’s education?

Thomas cleared his throat, “You know…if you’d like some new books, I know a wonderful bookshop, just off Covent Garden, they have a wonderful selection, I have an account with them.”

“Oh?”

“Perhaps I could take you in a few days, when your ankle is feeling better?”

“I’d like that,” it was the first positive response he’d had from her, so he decided it was a good time to continue, if she was feeling a little more amiable. “You know…Eliza…I’m not good with apologies,” she looked up from her book now, absently sliding a metal page marker in place and closing it in her lap, “I want to try harder…to be better, a better husband. I’ve let you down. It wasn’t my intention.”

“What was your intention?” he didn’t blame her for her defensive behaviour.

“To pretend I wasn’t married at all,” He replied, perhaps the only honest words that had ever left his mouth. Eliza seemed as equally surprised by his admission as he was, “I…It was never about you, Eliza. There was never anything wrong with you. Except perhaps my parents inability to choose a woman who would have been quite happy to sit at home doing crochet, and doing exactly as she’s told. I didn’t count on being paired with a woman quite so…fiercely independent. It’s difficult to ignore someone as outspoken as you.”

“I’m not quite sure how to respond to that,” a flicker of a smile was there, and her eyes brightened a touch.

“I’m not saying that with any ounce of disrespect, I assure you.”

“You just wanted a pretty wife, who would blend into the background,” and she’d hit the nail on the head. He nodded, slowly, “You know… I didn’t care about the money, the inheritance, the…social status of your family. Or mine, come to that. I just wanted to make my Father happy. He wanted me to marry, he wanted to know that when he…dies…and all his worth goes to my six brothers, that I’d be taken care of, no matter what. I don’t doubt for a second that my brothers would ever allow me to become destitute. But Father thinks so highly of your family, and I knew by marrying you it would please him… no one told me that marriage would be this hard.”

“Nor I.”

Eliza scoffed at that, “How on earth has this been hard for you? You’ve not even been here.”  she was right, again. He’d not been there.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me for my behaviour, Eliza.”

“Good, because I wouldn’t want you to hold your breath.”

“But… I’m asking you to allow me to try. To try and be better. What happened last week…terrified me.”

“Which part?”

“All of it.” Thomas took a deep breath, “I’m not sure what I’d have done if something worse had happened. I know…I know I can’t talk, I’ve not been…I’ve been less than kind to you. I also know that I have no right to preach about fidelity, but the thought of another man touching you without your implicit consent sickens me. You’re my wife, and if nothing else it is my responsibility to keep you safe and protect you from such situations, and I’ve failed…completely.”

“I don’t blame you for what happened to me, Thomas,” Eliza’s voice was gentle now, “But my feelings have not changed. Everything I said you that afternoon…it still stands.”

“I know.”

“That said. We are still married and apparently we are soon to start a family, and I do not wish for my child to be brought up in a household of hatred and animosity,” Thomas nodded, letting her words sink in. He’d not considered what affect their relationship might have on their future children. He tried to remember the relationship between his own parents but he had very few memories of what it was like growing up with them. He went off to boarding school from the age of six. He certainly never remembered any obvious physical affection between his mother and father. But they always spoke of each other in high regard.

“Me neither. I must admit...I would like my son to grow up in a happy household.”

“Or daughter.”

“Excuse me?”

“You said your Son, but what is she's a girl?”

“Well yes. I suppose that might be a possibility.”

“Would that be a problem?”

“Only to my father.”

“Because of the company?”

“Precisely"

“I wager a woman could do your job just as well,” Thomas opened his mouth to answer but couldn’t. He wanted to, there was a lot he wanted to say, but he’d just managed to get Eliza to entertain him in their first civil conversation in months. He wasn’t about to ruin it now. She looked quite pleased with herself, when Thomas closed his mouth and gave a sharp nod.

“A daughter would be just as loved as a son. I assure you.”

“I’ll make a call to my Father tomorrow, and arrange a trip. Perhaps for the weekend after next?” Eliza suggested, as she opened her book back up, signalling the end of their conversation.  

 

*

 

Autumn was setting in and Eliza felt quite sad at the state of the pots in her little outside space at the back of the house. What earlier in the summer had been a bright and colourful garden, was now as grey and dreary as the city outside her front door.

Still she sat on the wicker chair and sipped in tea in the small yard, enjoying the fresh air. Her ankle was still too sore to walk long distances and the doctor had told her the importance of fresh air and sunshine. She was so hoping that she’d be up to some garden walks when she and her husband visited her Father and Step Mother that weekend.

“Eliza,” Thomas had taken to spending more time at home, and Eliza was still adjusting to his sudden prominence in the household. He’d gone back to work, but now he was home by five o’clock most days, and some days he would even finish at lunch time, and take her for a short drive. Just a couple of days earlier he’d taken her to a lovely little bookshop as promised.

Actually, that was a rather pleasant afternoon and for the first time she could genuinely say she’d enjoyed his company. He’d been as attentive as she’d allow, although she was using a stick to support her as she browsed the shelves. He remained with her, holding her chosen books and discussing his knowledge of different authors. He’d grasped quite quickly that literature was her one true love and she was always keen to listen to whatever he had to say on the subject. Of course, she was still coming to terms with the scene she’d interrupted almost a fortnight ago, and she’d not felt it right to mention it. Thomas was clearly making an effort to redeem his past behaviour, and although she could not find it in her heart to forgive him, she was willing to be civil. For the sake of her child. Perhaps, seeing as their situation was unlikely to change, they might learn to at least get along, if nothing else.

“I’m in the garden,” she called.

“You have a visitor,” Eliza turned in her seat to see her husband coming down the steps from the back door into the garden, and in his wake was no other than her friend, Lilly, holding a fresh bouquet of flowers, and wearing a big smile.

“Lilly!” Eliza moved to stand up, glancing momentarily at Thomas, who stood back and smiled encouragingly.

“No, no, don’t get up, I’ll come to you,” her friend rushed forward and set the flowers on the table, before throwing her arms around her friend, “Oh goodness, I’m so glad you’re all right. I heard all about the attack, you must have been terrified. Are you quite well?”

“I’m making a swift recovery,” Eliza nodded, and reached for the flowers, “Oh these are just beautiful.”

“I got them from Borough Market this morning, from the stall by your friend Joe’s bakery.”

“I know it.”

“I went in there to get some iced buns, I’ve left them in the kitchen to have with tea. You know his Mother asked after you, and she didn’t charge me!” Lilly explained. To Eliza’s knowledge Lilly had never actually met Joe, as he was rarely at the bakery, in fact Eliza hadn’t seen him since before the wedding. But she’d taken Lilly there and introduced her friend to the owners, his ever friendly Mother and Aunt who ran the shop, and his Brother and Father who managed deliveries.

“How sweet of her. I’ll try and stop by when I’m fully recovered and thank her in person. I know Ruth gets all our bread from there now…sit down, Lilly,” Eliza beckoned her friend to sake the chair next to her, “I’m sorry, I know there’s a slight chill, I’m just fed up with being cooped up indoors.”

“I’ll leave you ladies to it,” Thomas interrupted them, “I need to pop into town, but I’ll make sure Mrs. Connelly brings out some tea shortly.”

“Thank you,” Eliza offered a grateful smile to her husband, and he stepped forward, approaching her quickly, and for a moment she thought he was going to kiss her. But he simply touched her shoulder.

“Don’t spend too long out here, I don’t want you to catch a chill,” Eliza nodded.

“I’m sure I’ll see you later, Mrs. Rowe.” Thomas nodded his farewell to Lilly.

“Yes…and thank you for inviting me, My Lord.”

Eliza waited until Thomas was completely out of earshot, “He invited you?”

“Yes, I’d been begging Bobby to call him, after we heard about the attack. I’ve been worried sick. But you know what men are like. Bobby said you probably didn’t want to be disturbed and to be honest…I think he’s a little scared of your husband,” her voice lowered at the last words and Eliza giggled, “Then, out of the blue on Monday he phoned me himself, he said you were on the mend, and would much appreciate the company of a friend.”

“Oh Lilly,” Eliza grinned, “It’s so wonderful to see you, I’m so sorry, everything got really, really awful for a while, and after that afternoon, I just –”

“You don’t have to explain yourself, Lizzy. Just tell me…are you safe here? Has Thomas been looking after you?”

Eliza bit her lip, and nodded, “Yes…he’s been surprisingly attentive…though…can you keep a secret?”

“You know I can.”

“I’m pregnant,” Eliza whispered the words, and Lilly hands came to her mouth and she let out an excited squeak.

“Oh Lizzy!” she bounced, “Oh, I’m thrilled for you, I really am.”

“Thank you. I’m happy…really I am. I’m not sure if Thomas and I will ever be a picture of married bliss, but… did you know?” Eliza wasn’t sure where the thought came from, but there was something about Lilly’s questioning, her almost hyper awareness of Eliza’s fragile state which suggested she might be privy to something more. Lilly bit her lip, looking a little guilty.

“I didn’t know until recently. If I had known before…I would have told you.”

“Does everyone know?”

“Everyone knows that Thomas fired his secretary without warning, I don’t think anyone knows for certain. Bobby told me that there was a rumour. Although I don’t think anyone was surprised.”

“I bet they think I’m a right fool.”

“No…the contrary. Everyone who’s met you, absolutely adores you, myself and Bobby included, Michael Darling sings your praises. They think he’s the fool, Lizzy,” Lilly explained, gently.

“I…interrupted them.”

“Oh!” Lilly’s hands flew back to her mouth.

“Yes…it was…harrowing. To say the least.”

“I’m sorry. God Lizzy, I don’t know how you can stand to look at him.”

“It’s certainly difficult. But I don’t have much choice. At least I know it was nothing more than…a physical thing.”

“Was she the only one? Do you think?”

“I’m almost certain she was not.”

“I’d castrate Bobby, if I thought he was doing the dirty on me.”

“I wouldn’t blame you, but the difference is, that Bobby loves you, my husband…he…well he’s ambivalent towards me at best and although I think he feels remorse for the way he’s treated me, and I know he definitely blames himself for what happened to me… I don’t think he holds any guilt for his infidelity,” Eliza shrugged, “But that’s okay…he’s a man. I wasn’t giving him what he needed he went elsewhere. I’m not going to cry about it.”


	13. THIRTEEN

“Your stepmother really is the most insufferable woman.” Thomas fell into step with Eliza as he found her exactly where she said she’d be, taking in the air around the lake. They’d only arrived in Sussex just before lunch and now her ankle was practically healed she’d been hankering to stretch her legs.

“You’ve only just noticed,” Eliza rolled her eyes and let out a resentful chuckle.

“I honestly can’t understand what your father sees in her.”

“Companionship,” Eliza answered simply  “And despite how irritating she is, her heart is in the right place. She adores Daddy, she’s just hard work.”

“And you thought it appropriate to abandon me in her company?” he was jesting, truly. Eliza had excused herself early from lunch, after they’d broken the news of the pregnancy. Daphne had immediately sprung into action, offering all the unwanted advice she could come up with. Thomas could see she was getting on Eliza's nerves and was more than happy to cover for her when she made her hasty exit.

“I was nauseous. I needed the air.”

“I thought the sickness had improved,” His wife didn’t respond to that, she just smiled, shook her head and linked her arm with his. He couldn’t help but feel a bit pleased by the action, they’d come a long way in two weeks. He knew he wasn’t forgiven, she’d been abundantly clear about her feelings towards him and she could still be fiery if he said the wrong thing. He found himself treading eggshells a majority of the time they spent together, but she was easier in his company. But in many respects this made his own feelings much harder to deal with, as the more time Eliza allowed him with her, the more he got to know her and the more he liked what he got to know.

He wasn’t sure if it was his knowledge of the pregnancy, but quite suddenly she seemed much more grown up. He couldn’t work out if that was just how he was seeing her, or if her behaviour had changed in any way. Eliza had gone in his eyes from being a naïve, defiant girl, with an indignant attitude and smart mouth, to being a highly intelligent, interesting and beautiful young woman, and he hated how he’d not managed to notice this about her before. How he’d never even tried.

Although he couldn’t deny he feelings towards her attitude as a whole were not completely changed. He still believed her behaviour was not becoming of a lady in their social standing and he knew went they started going out in public again it would be a test of his wills to nurture her in the right way, as oppose to verbally abuse her for her outspoken manner. He wished he could be as carefree as she was, able to shrug it off, or even be proud of how independently minded his wife was. But unfortunately, like Eliza had been raised to think for herself and be confident in her ability to converse socially, he’d been raised to believe that women should present themselves in a particular way and Eliza did not portray that expectation.

Her physical attachment to him was a big step. He’d been sure to give her space whilst she was recovering and also while their relationship was on such unstable grounds. He didn’t know how she might feel following the attack although recovered from her injuries, how she might be fairing mentally. She’d not spoken about it at all. But neither had she mentioned what she’d witnessed between himself and Olivia in his office and he didn’t know if she was simply trying to forget and pretend it had never happened or if she was just biding her time. Which made him start consider his current concern.

They’d walked half way around the lake in comfortable silence, when he finally plucked up the courage to mention it, “I can speak to your father about a separate room. I’ll just explain that you’re having trouble sleeping, with the pregnancy.”

“That would be a lie. If anything, I’m sleeping too much.”

“If we’re going to go with honesty, I’ll tell him we have separate bedrooms at home.”

“You can’t tell my father that,” she looked up at him wide eyes, stopping their walk and letting go of his arm.

“Well what do you suggest, Eliza?”

“Well I suggest we both reign in our utter disgust at the idea of sleeping next to each other for two nights and deal with it,” Thomas couldn’t help but laugh, his eyes creased as he smiled at her, “Why is that funny?”

“Most women would prefer to have their fathers believe they’d never shared a bed with a man.”

“I’m not most women. And I’m pregnant, I’m sure he presumes we do anyway, and if he thinks otherwise he’ll worry about me. He’ll worry I’m not happy,” she started walking again.

Thomas waited a few seconds, “Are you happy?”

“About what?”

“Life?”

“I’m happy to be pregnant, I’m happy to have a nice home and dinner on the table each night. I’m happy to be walking around this lake and that the weather has held out,” Eliza answered and Thomas nodded slowly, “My Mothers garden is this way, would you like to see?”

“Only if you want to show me.”

“Of course, I mean I expect this time of year it might look a little overgrown and dull, but you get the idea. It’s beautiful in June,” Eliza lead him away from the lake down a stone path and through a gap in a thick, but neatly trimmed hedgerow. The grounds at Lord Cottingham’s home were nowhere near as grand as the Bedgebury Estate, but there were still several acres of gardens and the house its self was a good size. The garden Eliza showed him was sizeable and had well maintained flowerbeds, although there were very few blooms remaining. There was a sundial in the centre, and a rectangular Koy Pond with stone ornaments and benches surrounding. It was almost completely hidden from the lake and the main house, “Father insists the gardeners always keep this part of the grounds perfectly maintained as Mother liked it. Daphne doesn’t come here. Nor does Daddy really, he says it’s my place.”

“It’s beautiful, Eliza. I can see why your Mother loved it so much.”

“She used to paint out here, the canvas in our sitting room, she fancied herself an artist…and a business woman, she was commissioned several times,” Eliza explained, as she came to sit on one of the stone benches, Thomas sat next to her, “Did you ever meet her?”

“I did. Although I was young. Five or Six…I don’t remember much about her. Other than laughter. Whenever our families spent time together, there was always laughing,” Thomas recalled, a small snippet from his own childhood, “Do you remember her?”

“A bit,” She nodded, “I think my brothers all found it much harder than I did. I was too young to understand. That’s why I’ve always been so close with my Father. Daphne wanted to send me away to a boarding school like my brothers, but my Mother had told him when I was born that she’d never send me away, so Daddy insisted I was home schooled.”

“It must have been lonely.”

“Yeah…it was,” she sighed, then chuckled to herself, “One summer, I was around nine, the boys were all packed and ready to be shipped off back to school, and Jacob had already gone back to London. I was so desperate to go too, I cut all my hair off and begged Daddy to send me with them…my governess screamed when she saw me.”

Thomas was laughing now, “Oh goodness, I can imagine she would have!”

“She was furious. She told me little girls should have beautiful long hair. But I didn’t want to be a little girl. I wanted to go to school with my brothers. You think I’m bad now…this is nothing. I was a nightmare as a child. I was always in trouble for dirtying my dresses and not behaving like a proper lady. But Daddy didn’t care. He let me do whatever I wanted and my brothers only encouraged me. It wasn’t really until I was sixteen and out in society that I realised being a girl wasn’t all that bad,” it was the biggest insight she’d ever given him into her childhood and he felt strangely honoured that she would open up to him like this, he wasn’t sure what had brought it on. He’d certainly not asked for it but then he realised this was the sort of thing they should have been doing before they wed, asking about each other’s  pasts and recalling funny stories of their younger years. His felt like so long ago, so much had happened since he was a child.

“My sisters went to boarding school,” he told her, “So did I, separate of course, but I didn’t really get to know either of them until we were much older. Even now, we aren’t that close. My school friends were my family…still are really. Matthew, my best man, we met on our first day and shared a dorm until we were eighteen. You’re lucky you have such a good relationship with your brothers.”

“I know,” Eliza nodded, as she gazed around the garden, “It’s weird, I was so excited about moving to London. It was all I’d ever dreamt of. The shopping, the Jazz Clubs, the restaurants…but I’ve really missed this place.”

“I didn’t know you liked Jazz,” his wife was constantly full of surprises.

“You never asked.”

“I suppose I didn’t,” Thomas agreed, and fell silent, reminded for the millionth time in the past weeks how truly awful he’d been to her.

 

Thomas was already tucked up in bed when Eliza left the ensuite bathroom, covered head to toe in a set of white cotton pyjamas. She’d made an effort to choose sleep wear as uninviting as possible, and not leaving anything to chance as far as her husband was concerned. Despite the fact that she’d agreed for these two nights to share her childhood bedroom with him, she still did not delight in the idea of sleeping next to him.

But sleep is exactly what they did, for as soon as she was settled next to him, being sure to leave as wide a space as possible between them, Thomas reached for the bedside lamp and turned it off, drowning them in darkness. He bid her goodnight and they both rolled onto their sides simultaneously turning away from one another. Eliza couldn’t say it was the best nights sleep she’d ever had, but she did sleep at least.

When she awoke the next morning, Eliza was immediately aware of the empty bed next to her and the noise of someone moving around the room. She looked up at Thomas as he finished buttoning his shirt. For once he’d made the decision not to bring Mr. Clarke along for the weekend and Eliza had been more than a little surprised. In fact, Thomas had actually driven them to Sussex himself, giving his entire household staff the entire weekend off. A small holiday, he’d told her.

“Good morning,” he said, when he saw her squinting up from her burrow of covers.

“Morning.”

“Did you sleep well?”

“I slept.”

“I’m going down for breakfast, so you can get ready alone,” he told her, before grabbing his jacket and leaving the room. She was so confused, he was running so hot and cold with her, although, she wasn’t behaving much better. Yesterday was a good day for them. They’d bonded somewhat over conversations about their childhoods and he’d seemed to enjoy her company. Hell, for a little bit she’d enjoyed his. But this morning he couldn’t seem to get away from her fast enough. She settled back on the bed and rested one palm over her still soft tummy. Times like this reminded her how very alone she was.

The rest of the day went rather as she expected. Breakfast with her Father and a drive into the local village. Thomas didn’t join them, he stayed back at the house insisting he would have a look at the stables and perhaps the small library, whilst she spent some time with her Father.

She and her father shared a light lunch at the local inn of which they had been regulars until her marriage to Thomas. The landlord and his wife greeted them happily and it was nice to catch up with the locals. Then, that evening they ate dinner together whilst they listened to Daphne gush over the favourite of Eliza's siblings. Her third eldest brother , Curtis. Curtis, Eliza loved just like her other brothers but she saw him the least as he lived and worked in the states these days. He was married but she’d only met his wife once and he had children whom she’d never met. Curtis had attended her wedding alone. But Daphne had always had a soft spot for the middle child. She loved telling her anyone who would listen about her hugely successful step son who lived across the pond.

It wasn’t that Eliza wasn’t proud of her brother too. But she was proud of all her brothers and she wished her step mother would treat them equally.

By the time she went to bed that evening once again Thomas was already tucked up, this time absorbed in a brown leather bound book which Eliza was certain she'd not seen him reading before.

“What are you reading?” she asked as she got herself comfortable next to him, not quite as awkward as she had been the previous night. She lay on her side facing him and he glanced at her from the book.

“Oh…this…” Thomas coughed and if Eliza wasn’t mistaken she saw his cheeks tint the slightest shade of pink, “It’s just something I found in your family library.”

“Well, what is it?” Eliza reached for the book, but he moved it from her reach.

“It’s just a book of poetry. I’m certain you won’t find it interesting in the slightest.”

“I might!” Eliza argued, “Tell me what it is.”

“Its…well, fine. But don’t laugh at me or judge me, I was quite surprised to see it actually, so I just had to borrow it for a little, to take a look,” Thomas started and Eliza frowned. He held up the book, “Snowdrops from a Curates Garden…” Eliza stared at him blankly, having never heard of the book, “By Aleister Crowley.”

“Am I supposed to know what that is?” Eliza asked, reaching again for the book, “Why won’t you let me see it?”

“Are you serious? You’ve never…” Thomas stopped and chuckled slightly, “It’s a book of erotic poetry, it was published around twenty years ago and it caused quite a stir in the literary world. This is no Keats…it’s rather…graphic and downright filthy for the most part. To own a copy of this was considered highly improper unless you are of the artistic persuasion and even then you would not be displaying it on your bookshelf.”

Eliza stared at him stunned for a moment, then giggled, “And that was in my family library? Where on earth?”

“On one of the top shelves, like I said, I was quite entertained by the fact it was there.”

“Are there initials inside the back cover?” Thomas peered into the back, “CRC.”

“Curtis Richard Cottingham. It belongs to my brother. The one in America. Oh how I’d love to tell Daphne about this, her precious, little Curtis,” Eliza giggled, “Can I read it?”

“Certainly not!” Thomas held the book fast.

“Why not?”

“Because it’s not appropriate reading material for a lady such as yourself.”

“I’m an adult!” Eliza argued, “Besides, you are always encouraging me to…broaden my horizons.”

“There is romantic erotism and then there is this, Eliza…it’s entertaining, but I really don’t think you’ll enjoy it,” Thomas argued.

“I’d like to make my mind up about that on my own.”

“I’m not letting you read this book,” Thomas laughed slightly, as Eliza leapt again for the book  and half landed on top of him. She scrambled up quickly and sat next to him, legs folded beneath her and pouted.

“Fine…read it to me then. Just a little, something you think won’t be too damaging to my delicate ears,” Thomas stared at her for a few seconds, looking thoughtful, then he turned back to the book and started flicking through the pages. He stopped occasionally and Eliza watched his eyes scan the words on the page, before he would shake his head and continue flicking pages.

“Right,” he finally stopped, “Can you…lay back down, and stop pouting. Behaving like a petulant child is not helping your cause.”

Eliza nodded and settled back on the bed, closer to him this time, so she could see the pages of the book, but still slightly too far away to see the words clearly, “Are you sure about this? You might not like it,” He asked her again and Eliza wondered how bad it could be, if even her husband who was renowned for his promiscuous nature was clearly embarrassed to let her see the contents of this book.

“I’m sure,” she nodded.

Thomas nodded slowly and took a deep breath.

_“Kissing her twat, I sat between her feet,_

_Smelt it, and felt it: sucked and found it sweet_

_Made fast with her legs, drew down her clitoris_

_Long as long pricks, and juicy like a kiss_

_With her own fingers played upon the spot_

_Kissing her twat -”_

 

“Stop,” Eliza interrupted him and drew a shaky breath, she bravely looked her husband in the face, “You’re doing this on purpose!” she accused, feeling the heat in her face from sheer, unbearable humiliation, “You cannot seriously tell me that was the most appropriate piece of writing from that whole book, you’re trying to purposely embarrass me, Thomas.”

“I told you, you wouldn’t like it.”

“It’s horrid!”

“What’s so horrid about it? It’s graphic I admit…but there is nothing horrible about it, comparing it to some of the other prose in this book, this is a fairly complimentary piece.”

“I don’t...understand. I mean…no that’s not right. I do understand…the words,” she stopped, trying to explain what she was thinking, “Most of them, I just don’t understand…I don’t understand,” Eliza relented, feeling embarrassed, and regretful for asking Thomas to read to her, when he gave her due warning.

“It’s a poem about cunninglingus,” Eliza gave him a blank stare, “Oral sex…when a man uses his mouth to pleasure a woman –” he stopped abruptly.

“Well yes I gathered that’s what he was going on about, but I didn’t know…why would anyone want to do that?” Eliza asked, finally, “And…what is…a erm… Clitoris?”

“Well…ah…Christ, Eliza,” Thomas closed the book and shoved it roughly on the bedside table, he rolled back over and reached for her hand, “This is just about the most awkward conversation I’ve had with a woman. I assure you, I’m not seeking to humiliate you, you were certain you wanted me to read to you.”

“This is about the most embarrassed I’ve ever felt,” Eliza countered, “It’s fine, Thomas. You don’t have to tell me. We shouldn’t be talking about this anyway, like you said. It’s not very appropriate.”

Eliza moved to role over and get comfortable, she reached for the lamp on her side of the bed and turned it out. The room dimmed, the only light now being from the lamp on her husbands side. She pressed her eyes closed and hoped the bed might swallow her whole to save her facing her husband again and the mortification she was feeling.

“Eliza,” Thomas spoke her name after a few moments. She rolled over and looked at him, he still sat propped up against the headboard.

“Yes?”

“I can show you.”

“Show me what?”

“I can…if you’d like me to…I can show you why people do it, I can do it for you,” he shuffled down the bed and moved closer to her and reached out his palm cupping her cheek, as he allowed Eliza to process his words. His offer, “I realise… I’ve not been the most attentive lover, that’s on me. But I can try to make it up to you, if you’ll allow me.”

She couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing. She’d gone from embarrassment, to feeling affronted by what he was suggesting. Did her husband seriously think, after his behaviour towards her, and her knowledge of his infidelities, that she’d let him anywhere near her? Much less to carry out such a lurid sexual act which Eliza still wasn’t quite sure was actually a widely practised form of sexual gratification between lovers. The very idea sounded quite repulsive.

Eliza reached for his hand and removed it from her face, and gave him a hard glare, “No…Thank you,” and with that, she rolled back over, pursed her lips and closed her eyes, “Turn off the light, I’d like to sleep now.”


	14. FOURTEEN

The front door slammed behind him and Thomas charged through his Mayfair Townhouse. He didn’t wait for Clarke or Mrs Connelly to arrive and serve him, by the time his valet had hung his coat and hat, Thomas had already poured and downed his first measure of Scotch and was picking up the bottle to pour his second.

“Where is Eliza?” He asked, gruffly, setting his glass down and taking his cigarettes from his pocket. He  balanced one between his lips, and struck a match to light it. He shook the flame out and jabbed the little stick angrily into the glass ashtray atop the bar.

“I er…” Clarke stuttered, he’d been with his Thomas all day, he knew as much as to Lady Hiddleston’s whereabouts as his master did. Thomas knew that as well, Clarke also was privy to the reason behind Thomas’ sour mood, “I’ll find out for you sir.”

“Please do.” Thomas huffed and took a drag of nicotine. This was not ideal, far from it.

Things had been going rather well these past weeks. Dare say it, Thomas was actually feeling, for the first time since the end of the war, quite content with his lot in life. Alright, so his marriage was not perfect, far from it in some respects, but as a whole he was happy.

After their trip to Sussex, and his foolish overstep regarding trying to re-establish an intimate relationship with his wife, who, quite rightly shot him down without explanation, for none was needed, it had set them back a few days.

He was mortified, and his pride wounded. He was certain he’d never had a woman rebuff him with such certainty, and the worst part of that was knowing that Eliza rejected him because she knew him. She knew him better than any other woman he’d slept with. The realisation of that made him sick to his stomach.

He’d used women, yes. Many in fact. But they’d used him also. Even the ones whose services he’d paid for had used him for the money he put in their pockets. The flappers in the dance halls had used him for his good looks and charm. But Eliza was the first woman he’d ever allowed in, even remotely, in many, many years. And she didn’t like what she knew and she’d made her stance regarding that part of their marriage, even without words, very, very clear.

But once he’d licked his wounds, and Eliza had recovered from the embarrassment they were both able to continue moving forward, and they’d returned to a nice little routine. Thomas had even surprised her with an evening out at a Jazz Club along with Lilly and Robert which she’d enjoyed immensely. She’d laughed and they’d all danced and for the first time in months, Thomas had felt truly relaxed and happy.

No. They might not share what is considered a normal marriage, but slowly and surely they were forming a partnership and he was missing the pull of his old life, of dance halls and one night stands, less and less.

Not to mention the fact that Eliza was now almost four months pregnant and although the dresses she wore for the most part covered her changing body, he was enjoying that happy glow which radiated from her constantly. Her face was a little rounder, and her skin a little dewier. Her hair shone a touch more. It was a subtle changes which reminded him that his wife was carrying his child and although he was terrified of becoming at father, he couldn’t deny the swell of pride he felt each time he saw a new change in Eliza’s being.

So learning that he was expected to travel to New York on business this coming week, was not ideal. The thought of leaving his wife, for any extended period, in her current condition, filled him with a sense of dread. After the attack, he couldn’t bare the thought of anything happening to her in his absence, and worst of all…he would miss her.

“Thomas?” Eliza entered the dining room, a worried frown etched on her forehead, “What on earths the matter?”

“I have some unfortunate news.” He sipped at his second Scotch.

“Oh?”

“I’m expected in New York in ten days time. I’m afraid I’ll be away for a little while.”

He watched her worried expression soften, and her lips part. But he couldn’t read the new expression which graced her pretty features, “Oh.”

“I’ll be leaving this coming Monday, the boat departs from Southampton at fourteen hundred hours.” Thomas explained, “I'll have meetings with our New York port officers, as well as accounting, and the shipyard. I'll be gone just shy of four weeks.”

“I see.” He still couldn’t read her. The look she was wearing was one he'd not seen before and he had no idea how to take it. Then he noticed her eyes were a little glassy and if he wasn't mistaken her bottom lip wobbled.

“I do no wish to leave you, not in your present condition. I assure you. I’ve done all I can to see if there is any way out of it. But since my involvement has heightened in recent months, my absence would be noticed and not well received by our American clients.”

“I could come with you. I’ve never been to New York. I could bring Jenny and we could enjoy the shopping and catch a show!” Eliza suggested brightly. But Thomas had already considered that option. His first action upon realising he could not get out of this trip, was to call Doctor Lovick and see if Eliza would be allowed to travel.

“I’m afraid I’ve already thought of that. Although Doctor Lovick does not forbid it, he does not recommend being away from home for extended periods. Ship crossings are not pleasant for those with an uneasy stomach. I would not wish to subject you to seasickness in your vulnerable state.” Thomas kept his tone even. But he was angry. Not at Eliza or himself. Just at the situation.

Eliza was quiet for a few minutes, before she walked around the table, picked up the bottle of scotch and proceeded to top up her husbands second empty glass, “I wont go out alone. I’ll be with Jenny the whole time,” she assured him.

“I just hate the thought of leaving you at the moment.”

“I'll be alright, Thomas.” She told him, voice soft and calm, “It’s work. Its unavoidable.”

“Yes.”

“I’ve cooked dinner. Are you hungry?”

“Famished.”

“Good. I’ll have Ruth set the table,” with that she touched his wrist gently with her fingertips and  disappeared back off into the kitchen to serve their evening meal. Thomas' stomach turned. Despite Eliza's apparent coolness about his trip away, he could see she was clearly affected. As was he. He did take this as a small positive in a really horrible situation. That he wife valued his presence, she’d wanted to accompany him and although she knew she would he okay without him, her sadness was very clear.

 

Monday came around sooner than either of them had wanted. Clarke had packed Thomas’ cases into the back of the car and the sun had only just risen when they were preparing to leave.

Thomas hadn’t expected Eliza to awaken early to see him off, but she’d joined him for breakfast. Albeit still in her night dress and robe. But she was awake and talkative. She asked lots of questions about his trip and the business. He was surprised to learn that she’d never left the country.

“When I return, perhaps we could have Doctor Lovick clear you for just a few days in Paris?” Thomas suggested, sipping his coffee, “Its only a few hours on the ferry. I’m sure you’d love it.” Eliza's eyes lit up at his suggestion.

“Paris? You’d really take me to Paris?”

“I would. We'll stay at Le Meurice, its beautiful and I will take you to the Louve.”

Eliza squeaked with excitement and clapped her hands, “I’ve always wanted to go to Paris.”

“And you shall,” Thomas promised her, happy that this offer had pleased her so much, “But for now, I’m afraid I really must be getting ready to leave.”

 

Clarke assisted him with his jacket and Eliza waited at the bottom of her stairs, still donning only her night clothes and a little pair of sling back slippers. Thomas assumed given that it wasn’t even seven o'clock that she might return to bed for a while after he left.

“I shall write as soon as I arrive, so my letter will beat me home,” he promised her, and Eliza nodded slowly, wrapping her arms around herself. Thomas nodded at his wife, touching her arm gently before heading towards the front door.

“Thomas, wait,” he stopped abruptly, and turned back to see his wife hurrying across the small lobby towards him, “I just wanted to say. I hope you have a safe trip,” Thomas nodded, “And…well…I’ll miss you.”

Her admission stunned him, and warmed is heart, as she looked up at him with sincerity in her gaze and her eyes a little misty, “I’m going to miss you too, darling,” He reached up with one hand, cupping her face tenderly, “I’m going to miss you so much, Eliza.”

“I wish you didn’t have to go.”

“You know I’d prefer to be here, with you.”

She nodded, and they continued to look at each other, sharing a few precious seconds of privacy. Thomas shifted when he felt Eliza’s hand settle on his chest and she moved a little closer to him. That was his invitation. He dipped his head and caught her lips with his, and she didn’t move away. Instead she pressed herself closer still and kissed back. It was soft, sweet and very brief, and when it ended they shared a tentative smile.

“I’ll see you in a few weeks, Eliza.”

 

*

 

The weeks without Thomas dragged.

Eliza hated to admit that she was truly missing her husband. A man who up until very recently caused such a feeling of resentment within her. Hate wasn’t too strong a word. She'd gone from spending the first several months of their marriage feeling ambivalent towards him at best. Then he'd struck her and it had turned into full blown hatred, instantly. Fear? No, although that would have been the rational reaction to her husbands behaviour. Eliza was just angry, and broken and the only reason she’d relented and fallen into the background for him was because the less she acted up, the less she would need see him and deal with him.

Then everything happened and all of a sudden it was like someone else had replaced the awful man that she'd married. She saw a magnified version of the man who'd held her on their wedding night whilst she'd sobbed herself to sleep. He was attentive, and thoughtful. He spoke to her, he asked her questions and he spent time with her. No. He made time for her.

If Thomas wasn’t at work he was at home, with his wife.

It hadn’t been easy. It had taken Eliza weeks to accept that just maybe, this was the real Thomas. But she’d promised herself for the sake of their unborn child she would make the effort to get along, to allow him to try and be a better man. So far he was doing a fairly good job, there had been a couple of slip ups sure. The second night in Sussex being one of them, but Eliza recovered quickly upon realising that actually, her husband was more embarrassed by the ordeal than she was and barely spoke for several days afterwards. She’d damaged his pride with her rejection and for the first time she realised that he was only human.

But that kiss. Upon his departure. It had left her reeling. She had no idea what was going on between them now, but with a heartfelt farewell and a promise of a romantic getaway to Paris upon his return (because it was Paris, how could it be misconstrued as anything other than romantic?) she could not wait for him to come home.

His letter arrived almost a fortnight after his departure. Eliza had kept herself busy. She spent a lot of time with Lilly and her sister in laws. She also managed to catch up with Joseph on a delivery run and shared tea with him and his mother, and of course Jenny. He was doing well and pleased to see Eliza happy and pregnant.

Thomas’ letter was sweet and thoughtful. It was quite matter of fact in parts. It spoke of an easy crossing with good weather. They made good time, although Michael who had accompanied him had suffered terrible seasickness. He spoke of the weather upon arrival and how it was already snowing despite it still being early winter. But then he spoke about how he missed her terribly, and the thought of returning and whisking her off to Paris was the only thing keeping him going.

Eliza read his words repeatedly, his untidy but perfectly legible scrawl covering two sides of paper, and at the end he’d signed it ‘Your Thomas’ and for some reason that made her feel funny inside. Perhaps against her better judgement, she let Lilly read it.

“He’s trying to woo you, Lizzy,” her friend had told her between giggles.

“Woo me? Who uses the word woo anymore?”

“Well it’s the only appropriate word.”

“That’s absurd, we’re married.”

“And up until recently, you hated him. Like, couldn’t even stand being in the same room as him. Now, he’s promising you trips to romantic cities, and signing off letters as ‘your Thomas’. He’s besotted, Lizzy and I’m not going to beat around the bush here…so are you,” Eliza had just stared at her friend for a few moments, before snatching the letter back and stuffing it in her purse and swiftly changing the subject.

But, Lilly was right and Eliza was loath to admit it, but she was somewhat besotted by Thomas. He was intelligent and insightful on topics she found of interest. He could be funny, and most recently he’d proved himself to be sweet and thoughtful. She’d never been wooed before. It was nice. It was a good feeling and in spite of what she knew of his behaviour and infidelity to her, she knew she was falling for him. Did that make her a fool? She certainly felt very foolish when Lilly had called her out on her infatuation.

On the outside she tried to remain indifferent, but inside she was excited. She couldn’t wait for her husband to return home.

Days before Thomas was due home, there was word from the ship that due to poor weather they had been delayed. It was winter, and the crossing had been a rough one. Very cold and lots of ice in the water, therefore the ship took a slow pace, estimating that the journey could increase by an additional two days. Eliza was disappointed, but knew she could go a couple more days, she’d managed almost four weeks with her husbands absence already.

Finally, on the day of his return there was a call to the house from the office. It was Maureen, letting them know they’d had further word from the port. The ship was due to dock mid-afternoon, so Thomas was expected back early evening. Eliza was buzzing with excitement, she even baked a cake. She’d wanted to travel down to Southampton with Johnson to meet him herself, but Ruth had advised against it, telling her he would be tired from his travels.

Eliza waited up, drinking tea and pacing the sitting room. Ruth had stayed late also keeping the lady of the house company, and ready to be on hand should she be needed upon Thomas’ return. But time ticked on. When it chimed midnight, Ruth tried to insist that Eliza go to bed, but Eliza refused, despite her exhaustion.

Twenty minutes later the sound of Johnson pulling up outside and car doors shutting sounded and Eliza practically ran to the front door, just behind the housekeeper who opened it to greet Thomas and his Valet.

Eliza hadn’t thought much past her husband actually arriving home. She certainly hadn’t paid much mind to what sort of shape their reunion may take. Although given the affection they shared upon their parting, Eliza thought he would be pleased to see her. She thought he might take her in his arms and seal her mouth with his in a kiss which told her exactly how much he’d missed her. If he did in fact miss her as much as his letter read.

What she was not counting on was her husband barging through their front door, brushing past her with such force she was nearly knocked off her feet. Only steadied by Ruth’s hands on her shoulders. She caught their housekeepers eyes, and was met with a sympathetic smile.

“Mrs Connelly, may you please prepare some tea for his Lord,” Clarke instructed, and Eliza watched on as she remained completely ignored, the valet assisted Thomas with his jacket and her husband headed upstairs without so much as a glance back at her.

“Certainly, Mr Clarke,” Ruth nodded, and hurried towards the kitchen.

“Lady Hiddleston,” Clarke greeted her with a nod, as she stood, dejectedly in the lobby staring after her husband, knowing better than to follow him.

“Clarke,” She forced a smile, “How was the trip?”

“Business its self was a great success. However the return crossing was terrible, as you can tell, it’s put your husband in quite a fowl mood,” he said the past part under his breath, “I’m afraid Lord Hiddleston has picked up a touch of cold, and what with the rough crossing, sleep has been rather illusive. I’m certain he’ll feel much improved tomorrow morning. I’m just sorry you waited up.”

“No, of course. In fact, I’ll have Ruth prepare some hot honey and lemon, then I’ll head to bed,” Eliza said, upon hearing the news. Once she’d returned from the kitchen, Eliza saw herself to bed, but she stayed awake for some time, unable to sleep for the disappointment she felt.  But as Mr Clarke said, her husband was tired from the trip and not feeling his best. She only hoped his mood would be better in the morning.


	15. FIFTEEN

“What’s going on?” Eliza frowned into the mirror, catching Jenny’s eye, as her maid added some pins to her hair. It wasn’t early, just gone nine o’clock according to Miss. Jones. Usually at this time the house was quiet, her husband having left for work, and the only noise was sometimes Ruth pottering around doing the morning chores.

But that morning there was repeated heavy footsteps up and down the stairs, Eliza knew they were distinctively Mr. Clarke. She’d heard knocking down the hall, and hushed voices outside her door.

“Oh erm… Lord Thomas has not attended the office today, he wishes to remain in bed,” Jenny said, her voice quiet, “But Michal Darling called to say he has a meeting and Clarke has been trying to rouse him ever since.”

There was another knock down the hall. Eliza realised now that it was knocking on her husbands bedroom door, “Well why doesn’t he just go in and tell him he needs to get up?” Eliza stood abruptly from her stool, pausing a moment to rest a hand over her growing belly. She was still learning that she couldn’t move as quickly as normal. Without waiting for an answer from Jenny, Eliza strode out into the hall and down to where Ruth and Mr. Clarke stood whispering outside her husbands bedroom door.

“Lady Hiddleston,” Clarke greeted, noticing her first.

“What is going on?” Eliza demanded.

“It’s nothing for you to worry about, Eliza,” Ruth tried to assure her.

“I didn’t ask if I should be worried, I asked what was going on?” she was frustrated now, if something was wrong, she wanted to know what it was.

“Thomas won’t wake up,” Clarke revealed, and Ruth shot him an angry glare. Eliza blinked in surprise, she’d never heard her husbands valet refer to his master by his given name. She’d never heard anyone other than his close friends and family refer to him by such.

“What on earth do you mean?” Eliza asked, but didn’t wait for an answer, as she pushed by and placed her hand on the door knob, twisting and letting herself into the room. They’d been married almost nine months, and Eliza realised, quite suddenly, this was the first time she’d entered her husbands bedroom.

The room mirrored hers, but it was furnished differently, darker, with mahogany furniture and a large solid four poster bed in the middle. That’s where her husband was, sheets pulled up to his chest, head turned slightly to one side, and lips slightly parted, and he appeared to be in a deep sleep.

But you didn’t need to be a medical professional to see that something was terribly wrong. It was his breathing she noticed first, loud and heavy, which a distinct wheeze on the exhale. His chest was visibly rising and falling with the effort of every breath. She took a tentative step closer and saw the sheen of sweat on his forehead, and then she noticed how his pale blue cotton pyjama’s were clinging to his skin.

“Ruth,” Eliza called, her voice shaking, the housekeeper poked her head inside, “Call Doctor Lovick, immediately, tell him it’s an emergency.”

Eliza jumped into action, “Clarke, could you fetch some fresh bed clothes and sheets?” the Valet nodded and set to his task, “Jenny!” Eliza called, and her maid appeared in the doorway seconds later, “Prepare a bowl of tepid water, bring it here with a flannel and towels,” Jenny nodded and disappeared.

“Thomas,” Eliza perched on the edge of the bed and called his name softly, but he didn’t respond. She tried again a bit louder, but nothing. It was only when she shook his shoulder gently did his eyes open blearily and he frowned at her. Then within seconds he was curling onto his side and coughing. An awful hacking dry cough and wheezing in between, catching a breath when he could.

Eliza rubbed his back through his sweat saturated pyjamas. “Thomas,” she tried again when he'd stopped coughing, but he didn’t acknowledge her, not until he was settled on his back and he looked at her through heavy lidded eyes, “Thomas, Doctor Lovick is on his way,” she explained, but her husbands eyes were already drooping again, “Thomas, I need you to stay awake for me. I need to freshen you up and change your clothes. It'll help you feel better,” Nothing. His eyes were closed again. She took in his ghastly appearance. His face was white, almost grey, in fact and his hair, normally greased to perfection with that little wave from where his natural curls couldn’t quite be tamed into a side parting. Now his curls sprung free, but were slick with perspiration and some stuck to his forehead.

Jenny set a bowl on the chair by the bed and Eliza set to work. She carefully tugged the sheets back, then wet a flannel and wiped the sweat from her husband’s brow. It was then he opened his eyes again. He gave her an almost angry glare and lifted a hand, and weekly shoved her hand away from him, “No,” his voice came out in a horse rumble.

“I need to do this, Thomas,” she told him, holding his hand gently in hers she continued her task. He fought again when she employed Clarke’s help to remove the soaked night shirt and replace it with a fresh one. But soon enough he was freshened up and as she finished her care, Thomas had appeared to have fallen back into a sound slumber. Just as Doctor Lovick arrived.

Eliza allowed Thomas his privacy and the Doctor space to work, and waited downstairs with Jenny and Ruth whilst Doctor Lovick completed his examination.

“You should really eat something, Eliza,” Jenny insisted, placing a pot of tea on the dining table.

“I can’t,” Eliza admitted.

“I’m sure he’ll be fine,” Ruth tried to sound positive, but she’d not seen Thomas close up, she didn’t see what Eliza saw.

“I’m not sure he will,” Eliza croaked, picking up her tea to sip it, “He was barely conscious. It sounded like he was struggling to breathe.”

“Lady Eliza,” Clarke appeared in the doorway, “Doctor Lovick says you can go back in now.”

Eliza put her teacup down with a clatter and hurried from the dining room and upstairs. She tapped the door, and entered the bedroom without waiting for a reply. Doctor Lovick was writing something in a notebook, and Eliza noticed that Thomas was now sat upright, with extra pillows stuffed behind him to keep him propped up. He also seemed to be a little more alert, his eyes open and he watched her as she approached the bed.

“Ah, Lady Eliza,” Doctor Lovick greeted her for the second time that morning, although his expression was sombre. Eliza perched on the edge of the bed and lay her hand over Thomas’ but he pulled it away from her and turned his head to the side. She bit her lip and looked to the Doctor, “I’m afraid it’s not good news. I believe your husband has developed pneumonia. Likely as a result of a sudden onset of influenza, which has settled on the chest.”

Eliza’s eyes widened, “Pneumonia…that’s really bad, that’s…” she trailed off, noticing Thomas’ eyes had drifted closed again, so she took advantage an reached for his hand, holding it between her own, she felt the tears brimming in her eyes and the dread tightening her chest. People died from Pneumonia.

“It is serious, and I’m not going to sugar-coat it, it is life threatening,” Eliza nodded slowly at the doctors words, “At this stage, I do not want to admit him to hospital. The risk of infection is too high, he is safer right here.”

“Of course…what can I do?”

“It is important that your husband keeps well hydrated, that his temperature is controlled, so he needs to be kept cool, but not cold. His body is fighting the infection. Eating should be encouraged, it’s important he keeps up his energy levels. I’m going to prescribe Codeine, and I recommend small measures of Port or Brandy,” Eliza nodded again, “Most importantly, Eliza. I must strongly recommend you keep your distance, for the health of you and your baby.”

“I absolutely will not!” Eliza said, louder than she intended, “Thomas is my husband, and he’s sick. He needs me.”

“Eliza, I’m not saying you can’t see him at all, but I recommend leaving his care to your staff.”

“I can’t do that,” Eliza shook her head, “I have to look after him, it has to be me.”

“Eliza, please –” but Doctor Lovick didn’t get chance to finish as they were interrupted by Thomas erupting into another coughing fit. Immediately Eliza was at his side, helping him sit forward, and rubbing his back. She reached for a glass of water and helped him take several sips.

“It’s alright, Thomas, I’m here, I’m not going anywhere,” she told him, but he just closed his eyes again, and Eliza wasn’t sure if he was purposely ignoring her, or simply not with it enough to realise she was there, “Thomas?” He didn’t flinch. She stroked her fingers through his hair, and he blinked his eyes opened and looked at her, “You’re going to be okay.” He seemed to nod a little, acknowledging her this time.

“He can’t hear you, Eliza,” Doctor Lovick’s voice came from behind her, as the Doctor readied himself to leave.

“What? Why not?” Eliza had never heard of hearing loss to be a symptom of Pneumonia. But she was no expert.

“Lord Hiddleston is severely congested, he has a build up of fluid in the middle ear, given his already compromised hearing in his right ear, he is completely deaf,” Doctor Lovick explained, but Eliza continued to stare at her Doctor like he’d grown a second head.

“Already compromised hearing?” she repeated his words.

“Well yes, from his injury in the war,” the Doctor continued, “He’s not told you?”

“I…no…he’s never spoken of the war?”

“Lord Hiddleston spent the war in France, on the front line. He was caught off guard by a shell going off at close range and ruptured his ear drum on the right side. He does very well considering, he relies quite heavily on lip reading in large social settings… I’m very surprised you didn’t know,” Eliza shook her head slowly and stared at her sleeping husband.

“He never told me…” she thought back on their time together, had there ever been any sign that he was struggling to hear her? He’d certainly heard her that day she’d been speaking to Lilly in the sitting room, although they’d not been quiet. But then she remembered how often her husband had appeared to ignore her, and she thought he was being purposely ignorant. Then of all the times he would chastise her, tell her to look at him when she was talking to him. It never occurred to her, that he may have been asking that to make it easier for him to hear what she was saying, “Will it come back? His hearing…the congestion is temporary?”

“Yes, I’m certain it will clear. But until then, it will take some patience, and ensure he can see your mouth if you speak to him. I believe understands what’s going on, but he will probably sleep an awful lot whilst he fights the infection. I’m going to come back tomorrow morning,” Doctor Lovick explained, “Please remember what I said, Eliza. You need to take care of yourself, Thomas would not wish you to be compromising yours and your babies health for the sake of his.”

“Thank you, Doctor Lovick.”

“I’ll see myself out,” the Doctor nodded, and left the room, leaving Eliza alone with her husband. She reached forward again and cupped his cheek, grazing her fingers through the thin stubble on his chin, finding it quite novel, as she was so used to seeing him clean shaven and well turned out.

Thomas opened his eyes again and looked at her, expression pained. Eliza shuffled up the bed and made sure she was close enough for him to be able to see her mouth, “Get some rest, sweetheart.”

“Eliza,” his voice was a barely there croak.

“Shush,” She hushed him, “Don’t worry about me.”

“I’m sorry,” the apology took her by surprise, and she wasn’t entirely sure what he was apologising for? For being sick? That was hardly his fault, but he looked so full of remorse she knew it was more than that.

“Rest, Thomas. I’m not going anywhere,” she assured him again, reaching out and squeezing his hand again.

 

*

 

When he woke up it was pitch black, and deathly silent, and all Thomas was aware of was the heaviness on his chest. Such a weight that all he could think to do was try and clear it, in any way possible. He tried to move, but for some reason he couldn’t. He wanted to, but it was just like every ounce of energy had been drained from his body.

He knew from his position that he was sort of propped up, but not comfortably. He’d slid down on the pillow behind him and now he couldn’t move at all. He tried to cough but his position made  it hard, and he found himself thrashing about, desperate trying to get himself in a better position.

He wasn’t aware of anyone else in the room, until he felt hands shoulders, and he could just make about another body in the darkness, moving quickly around, and then a dim light flooded the room, as his bedside lamp was turned on, and Eliza came into view.

A worried expression graced her features as she hurried knelt on the bed and wrapped her arm around his shoulders, and she eased up him into a sitting position. Finally he was able to cough properly, clearing his chest as best he could. He stayed upright, whilst Eliza arranged his pillows behind him and finally he was able to settle back comfortably.

That was when he noticed the armchair in the corner, with the blanket draped over the back. Had Eliza been sleeping there? She must have been.

He took in her form, as she pottered by the side of the bed, pouring him a glass of water from a jug and handing it to him. He took a sip and handed the glass back. In her long white cotton nightdress, he noticed for the first time her rounded stomach, before he’d left there had been no obvious change in the shape of her body, but now she was clearly pregnant.

“Should be in bed,” Thomas managed to croak, and she just gave him a little smile and shook her head, then she perched next to him, and spoke. Although her couldn’t hear her, why couldn’t he hear anything? It was the first time it had occurred to him that his world was silent, but his head felt like it might explode. The pressure in his ears was agony. He strained to understand what she was saying, he was no stranger to lip reading. Sometimes he almost relied entirely upon it.

“I don’t want to leave you alone,” he worked out her words, “I’m not going anywhere.”

“The baby,” he lifted his hand, gesturing at her belly, and she shifted closer, taking his hand in hers and resting it over the small bump.

“Baby is fine,” Thomas nodded, as every became a fuzzy and his eyes felt heavy again.

 

*

 

It was three days before Thomas showed any real signs of improvement. Until then he’d only been conscious for short spells and in those times he’d been lucid. He’d allowed Eliza to help him eat a small amount of soup and sip hot honey and lemon.

He had a vague recollection of Doctor Lovick visiting and examining him. He’d watched him talk to Eliza, but wasn’t able to work out what was being said. Although Eliza seemed to realise he couldn’t hear her. She didn’t try to talk to him much, instead she was just there. Thomas didn’t remember much about those first few days after returning home from his trip, but the one thing he was completely aware of was that whenever he woke up, Eliza was nearby.

On the third day it was actually a noise which roused him. He’d been so out of it with fever and whatever the doctor had him dosed up on, along with being completely deaf that a sudden chiming of the grandfather clock in the downstairs lobby made his whole body jerk.

“Thomas,” his name upon Eliza’s lips was the next thing he heard, it was faint and sounded about a million miles away, but it was there. And so was the energy to turn his head to the direction of her voice.

It was dim in the room, the curtains were drawn, and the bedside lamp was on, so he ascertained it must have been the middle of the night and to his surprise Eliza was next to him on the bed, atop the sheets but curled up with a blanket around her. She had a book in her hands.

“Why aren’t you asleep?” he asked her, his voice feeling a bit easier.

“Can you hear me?” she asked, curiously. She closed the book and set it on the table beside her, all the while not taking her eyes off him.

“Yes…faintly.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? That you’re partially deaf? I…I would have understood, you have never mentioned France,” Thomas screwed up his eyes, struggling to deal with her sudden bombardment of questions, and he knew she didn’t mean it, but his head hurt, and his chest was so tight. She must have realised it was all too much for him as her apology came next, “I’m sorry.”

He shook his head slowly, “No. It’s just…what’s wrong with me?”

“You have Pneumonia,” Eliza explained, adjusting her position so she could plump up the pillows behind his head, “But Doctor Lovick says you’re doing very well. That your body seems to have just gone into rest and today your temperature has dropped some,” ss she said this she reached out a rested a palm on his forehead, and a small smile graced her lips, “He said that means your body has fought off the worst of the infection.”

“You were here… it’s really hazy, but I remember you in the chair,” Thomas nodded to the empty armchair in the corner.

“I’ve not left. I’ve been worried sick,” Eliza admitted, her hand reaching out again and cupping his cheek.

“You shouldn’t, you should be resting. Mrs. Connelly and Mr. Clarke are more than capable –” he stopped to cough, and Eliza got up and fetched a glass of water. He took it and drained it quickly, “It isn’t your job to look after me, Eliza.”

“I know it’s not my job. I’m not here out of some sort of sense of obligation,” Eliza stressed, perching on the edge of the bed next to him, and taking his hand in hers, “You’re my husband, and I want to be the one caring for you when you’re unwell. I know Ruth and Clarke are fully capable of providing care, and trust me, they’ve been an incredible support. But…I just…I needed to.”

At a loss for anything else to say, and touched beyond anything he’d ever felt, the only words Thomas could muster was a quiet, “Thank you.” No one had ever put themselves out for him in a such a way, just because…they cared. Even as a child, when he’d been sick, it wasn’t his mother who’d given him medicine and nursed him to health, it was his Nanny, or at boarding school, the nurse.

“You should go back to sleep,” Eliza straightened up the sheets covering him, and moved to pour a fresh glass of water.

“Only if you go to bed and get some sleep too,” Thomas told her.

“But –”

“I’m fine, Eliza. Please. Go to bed,” he insisted, and although she looked painfully conflicted, Eliza did nod, and gather her blanket from the bed, “I’ll see you in the morning?”

“Yes.”

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Thomas.”

“Oh…” Eliza stopped at the door and turned back to her husband’s voice, “I missed you, Eliza. Very much.”

“I missed you too,” she admitted, almost shyly, dipping her head and smiling at him, “Call me if you need anything.”

 

*

 

It was another week before Doctor Lovick signed Thomas off as well enough to be leaving his bed more permanently. Although the morning after he’d first properly come out of his fever induced sleep, he’d insisted Mr. Clarke draw him a bath, and he’d been strong enough to walk himself to and from the bathroom.

Eliza already knew that her husband was not the sort of man to tolerate laying around in bed for extended periods. It hadn’t surprised her that, as soon as he was able, regardless of how poorly he still was, Thomas insisted on at least sitting in his armchair, and she was more than happy to keep him company whilst he recovered.

She had Mr. Clarke bring a small table up, and together they would play cards, or chess. Eliza read to him, although often he would doze off whilst she did so. She tried not to take offense, he told her it was because her voice was so soft and melodic, that he couldn’t help but drift off to it, that she should be flattered that he could relax as well in her presence.

He didn’t talk so much, because he got out of breath quickly, but he made it very clear he appreciated her company nonetheless. She decided not to ask about his hearing again, it was clearly a sore subject and she decided to wait until he was in better health. He didn’t talk about the baby either. Although she’d caught him staring at her ever changing body. For the sake of comfort, and because she was always at home, Eliza shunned girdles and wore dresses which skimmed over her growing bump. But other than that one night, the one her husband apparently had no memory of, he’d not actually mentioned the pregnancy.

He was, however, quite cross when Doctor Lovick relayed how he’d advised Eliza that she shouldn’t get too close to Thomas whilst he was unwell, due to risking her own health from cross infection. He’d told her she was silly and should of heeded the doctors advice, and he’d even asked her to leave him alone for a while because he was so livid. But Eliza was more than familiar with her husbands tantrums and the next day it was like nothing had happened.

Eliza had of course notified both their families of Thomas’ condition, but was unsurprised when his Mother said she could not visit, blaming this on her own husbands poor health. She was cross and upset on her husbands behalf, but Thomas didn’t seem to mind. Although she knew he adored his mother, since the wedding he’d barely seen his family. She wondered if it was due to resentment for the situation they’d put him in, although she got the impression his relationship with his father had always been a fractious one.

Her husbands hearing improved by the day, and the doctor confirmed after an examination that all the fluid had drained on it’s own, and the swelling had gone down. Thomas seemed unaffected, and hadn’t complained once about how unwell he felt, even when it was obvious when he was in pain, or uncomfortable. Eliza couldn’t help but admire his tolerance. But most of all, she was just happy to have him home, and on the mend.

“Lizzy…” Eliza jumped a little from her place in the study where she perused her husbands’ book shelves. Thomas had been home just over a fortnight, and had only been coming downstairs the over past few days, although he was still unwell and tired easy. She’d known he was around, but she was more surprised by the use of her shortened name, a name normally reserved for close friends and occasionally her family, “That’s alright isn’t it? That I call you Lizzy, it sort of just came out.”

Thomas was in the doorway, and she was surprised to see him wearing proper clothes, as opposed to the pyjama’s and dressing gown that she’d grown used to. He’d also greased his hair, and she decided immediately that she missed it’s unstyled, curly softness. It looked lighter when it was clear of product too, “Erm, yes, of course. It just surprised me.”

“You can call me Tom or Tommy if you like. I don’t mind.”

“Tommy makes you sound about twelve,” she giggled, quickly selecting a small book off the shelf and turned to him properly, “You look better today. Your colour is good.”

“I feel better actually. I’ve asked Ruth to prepare us some lunch.”

“Good, I’m famished.” Eliza allowed her husband to take her arm and lead her through to the dining room.

 

“What’s that?” Eliza asked, curiously, as her husband read his mail. They’d finished lunch and retired to the sitting room. Eliza was happy to read, and Thomas usually dealt with his post in the study, but he’d been spending more and more time in the comfort of their lounge with his wife.

“It’s an invitation,” He handed her the thick, embossed card that he’d been holding.

“A Christmas party…with Stanley Baldwin? I had no idea you knew the Prime Minister?” Eliza’s eyes were wide.

“I don’t, not really. We’ve met once, before he was elected. It’s not me he’s inviting, it’s the company. My Father used to attend these sorts of events all the time. I used to have Michael go in my place. Although that’s not really an option now,” Thomas explained.

“This is in less than a fortnights time. You can’t be seriously considering going?”

“We must.”

“We?”

“Of course, you’re my wife. It would be odd if you didn’t attend with me.”

“Are you sure you’re well enough? We should ask Doctor Lovick.”

“Doctor Lovick has declared me well recovered.”

“He said, you were well enough to leave your bed, and to get some small doses of fresh air. He did not say you were completely better,” Eliza told him.

“I’ll be well enough to attend. I’ll have Jenny book you an appointment at Selfridges. You’ll need a gown, something to erm…flatter –”

“Hide you mean?” Eliza frowned. She knew it was unbecoming for a lady to display her pregnant body, but she despised the smock type dresses pregnant women wore. She also didn’t understand why it was considered so scandalous.

“If it was down to me, you’d be wearing a dress which clung to every inch of you, so everyone could see how magnificent you look swollen with my child. But it would be considered quite improper I’m afraid,” Eliza flushed at that, and lay a hand over her belly, earning a chuckle from her husband, “I have to tell you, Lizzy. You look beautiful, you’re glowing.”

“Thank you,” she mumbled, looking down.

“What was that?” her head shot up, it was the first time Thomas had admitted to not hearing what she had said, and she realized her mistake. She’d looked away and lowered her voice.

“I said, thank you,” she repeated, clearly for him to hear.

“You’re welcome although really it should be me thanking you,” Eliza quirked an eyebrow, and waited for him to elaborate, “These past weeks, what you’ve done for me. It’s much more than I deserve, I’m fully aware. I don’t know why you have treated me with such…it’s more than kindness, Lizzy. I need you to know this is the furthest from how I wished our reunion to be, and the thought of returning to you was what got me through that terrible journey home when I felt so unwell. I was scared to sleep because I thought I may not wake up, and the thought of never seeing you again terrified me.”

“Oh, Tom,” Eliza breathed, standing and moving towards him, she gestured to his lap. He was still weak she knew, and he sat now although fully dressed, with a blanket over his knees and their lit fireplace kept the sitting room almost unbearably warm. But he nodded and shifted a little so his wife could sit on his knee, something she’d never done before, and creating a close proximity which neither of them were expecting, she cupped his cheek gently and looked into his eyes, “I hated you.”

“I know.”

“I thought you were the worst, most terrible man,” Thomas glanced down briefly, unable to keep up her intense stare, guilt bubbling in his gut, “But you were there when I needed you, when no one else was. You’re a lot of things, Tom, and you’ve kept a lot of things from me, but not once have you lied. That’s how I know the man I’m with now is as genuine as the man I hated. I’ve seen so much of you, I know so much of you. More than most I believe. I don’t think you meant to show me as much of yourself as you have. I think you wanted to scare me into quiet submission, but I also know you acted out of anger. It was never me you were angry at but I bore the brunt because I was here.”

“Lizzy –”

“Please don’t apologise. Not again. I don’t want any more apologies between us. You asked for a chance and I gave it. I’m giving it. I’ll keep giving it,” without waiting, she leant forward and pressed her lips to his, only briefly. It was chaste and sweet, and she felt her husband exhale a sigh of relief as she pulled away.


	16. SIXTEEN

“Are you sure you’re up to this,” Eliza asked her husband for the umpteenth time, as she descended the staircase of their home, and approached him as he adjusted his bow tie in the mirror. When he turned to face her, she immediately reached up and straightened his collar, and patted the lapels on his jacket, “I still think it’s too soon.”

“Eliza, I can’t not go this evening,” Thomas said, letting her fuss over him. It seemed strange to think that just weeks ago he wouldn’t have let her touch him in such a manner, much less question his decisions.

He was well recovered and Doctor Lovick was amazed at how he had bounced back to health. He still got short of breath, and he found himself with less energy than he had previously. Not to mention the weight he’d lost whilst unwell, although slowly he was getting back to how he was before. His hearing was better, although not perfect, it hadn’t been perfect for a long time, and the congestion had certainly caused some more permanent damage, although he didn’t say anything. Eliza had been fussing enough without knowing that he was now relying on lip-reading most of the time, and he could only really hear people when they either spoke loudly, or were looking directly at him.

Now he was taking his first proper outing since he’d returned from the States. They had taken a few walks in the park, and Thomas was not yet returning to the office, deciding to wait until the new year.

Eliza stepped back from her husband and nodded resignedly, “I know I can’t talk you out of it.”

“No you can’t,” he shook his head, and took a moment to drink her in. He’d sent her to Selfridges to be fitted for an appropriate evening gown. The done thing, was for pregnant women to wear long, tent like dresses which disguised any sign of her pregnant body. He knew Eliza would shun than tradition, because although she didn’t talk about it much, she liked being pregnant, that much was obvious. When at home she wore the same clothes as before, but she’d had Jenny let out her most of her wardrobe, and add fabric panels to allow for her expanding belly. She liked to show it off.

This evening was no exception. Eliza wore a gold number, with a dropped waistline and a gemmed belt sitting on her hips, under the swell of her belly. She was quite obviously pregnant and not hiding it in the slightest, and she looked so breath-taking that Thomas couldn’t even find it within himself to care what anyone else thought of her.

“You look beautiful, Lizzy. Stunning actually, I’m very lucky to have you on my arm,” Thomas told her, honestly as his eyes continued to roam her figure.

“Really? Jenny didn’t approve, I know it.”

“Since when did you look to seek approval?”

“I don’t. But I care what you think,” that surprised Thomas, he wanted to ask why, or since when she’d cared for his opinion, but before he could ask Eliza moved away from him and straightened herself, “You’re an honoured guest, your wife should be the most beautiful woman in the room, at least in your eyes.”

Thomas smiled, a big wide, full smile. His eyes creased and he reached out to her. She stepped back into his arms, and allowed him to kiss her softly on the cheek, “Lizzy, you are the most beautiful woman in every room. I’ll never tire of everyone telling me what a lucky man I am.”

Eliza giggled, but didn’t say anything else. Jenny was descending the stairs with her lady’s clutch bag, which Eliza took gratefully. A toot from outside indicated that Johnson was ready and waiting with the car, so Eliza linked her arm with her husbands, and allowed him to steer her towards the front door, and out to their waiting ride.

 

“Who are all these people?” Eliza whispered in her husband’s ear, as he lead her through a crowded hall. They’d been greeted by two butlers who took their coats, and then servers as they entered the main room, who furnished them with Champagne.

As was always the case the room fell quiet when they entered, and all eyes landed on them. The heat of their stares made Eliza grip her husband’s elbow tighter. She was not nervous in company, she’d been raised a social butterfly, but it was somehow different being the wife of a Lord of Thomas’ standing.

“Politicians, mostly,” Thomas whispered back, “And wealthy business owners, like myself. Ah, that gentleman over there, if I’m not mistaken is Mr Henry Chatsworth, he’s the current manager at Coutts.”

“The bank?”

“Precisely,” Thomas nodded, “He’s widowed, and the young lady with him is his daughter, she’s around your age. Unmarried, and her father is training her in the business. As you can imagine, it’s quite the scandal.”

“Tom!” Eliza giggled quietly, “I never took you for a gossip.”

“When it comes to who is looking after my money, I make it my business to know what’s going on,” he smirked, “Ah, and over there, now you must know who that is?”

Eliza followed Thomas’ eyeline, and her lips parted in awe, “That’s…goodness, that’s Neville Chamberlain!”

“Quite right.”

It was an event mostly for the wealthy highflyers of London and politicians, but Eliza was having a lovely time. Her husband introduced her to several people, and word of his illness had gotten around, so most people were concerned after his health, asking how he was feeling. They were also fussing over her, and the impending infant. It was nice, for the first time, being the woman on Thomas’ arm, as he showed her off, treated her with care and dare she even think it, love.

They ate a very fancy dinner of multiple courses, and then there was some dancing, which Eliza thoroughly enjoyed, although her feet were tiring and she soon told her husband she needed to sit for a while. He was just leading her over to the lounge, when she heard someone calling her husband’s name, and she looked around. Thomas seemed oblivious, obviously not hearing in the crowded space. Eliza heard it again.

“Thomas,” Eliza’s eyes landed on a beautiful woman, wrapped in a red gown, which fell low at the chest, and dropped at the back, trailing along the floor a little way behind her. She wore her lips the same shade as her dress, and she was beelining in their direction.

“Tom,” Eliza tugged his arm, and he looked at her, “I think this lady knows you?” she nodded behind him, and Thomas turned to look. When his eyes landed on the woman who was now almost in front of them, Eliza felt rather than saw his entire body tense up.

“Thomas, I was calling you.” the woman said, a smile gracing her scarlet lips, but not quite reaching her eyes.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t recognise your voice,” Thomas lied, Eliza noticed how easily the small lie fell from his lips. It had nothing to do with her voice, he simply had not heard her. He fell silent, and Eliza felt him tug his arm from her grasp, so she let go, frowning at him. He stared at the woman in front of them, wearing a look she’d not seen before, but he didn’t attempt to further the conversation.

The woman shifted on her feet, then smiled again, “I saw you across the hall at dinner, and it’s been such a long time, I had to come and say hello.”

“Yes,” Thomas nodded, and cleared his throat, “It’s been a while.”

“Well…” the woman pursed her lips and looked to Eliza and then back to Thomas, “Won’t you introduce me?”

“Oh…yes…certainly,” Thomas nodded quickly, “Eliza, this is Lady Edith Spencer, the eldest daughter of the Earl of Chessington. Lady Edith, it’s my pleasure for you to meet my wife, Lady Eliza Hiddleston,” the introduction was there, but the sincerity was not. Thomas did not look either women in the eye as he gestured with an open, rigid palm to each of them. Eliza could feel the tension rolling off her husband in waves and unsure what else to do, she moved herself closer to him and forcibly linked her arm with his and rested a hand over her belly in a protective motion.

“Pleasure to meet you,” Eliza spoke first, “How do you know one another?”

“Oh, Tommy and I go way back,” the woman beamed, but her eyes dropped to Eliza’s belly, and widened, “Goodness, I had no idea, congratulations!”

“Thank you,” Eliza responded stiffly, not missing the fact that her husband had fallen unnaturally quiet.

“How far along are you?” the woman’s eyes were darting from Thomas, to Eliza in a way which Eliza didn’t like. The woman couldn’t even give her a straight answer as to how she was acquainted with her husband, yet had felt it acceptable to ask another question of her own.

“Almost six months… I’m sorry, how do you know each other?” Eliza repeated her earlier question, uncomfortable under this woman’s scrutiny.

“Old family friends, aren’t we, Tommy?” the woman reached out to touch Thomas’ arm, but she never got there. Thomas yanked his free arm out the way seemed to quickly pull himself together.

“Lady Spencer, if you’ll excuse us,” he said stiffly, before practically dragging Eliza across the bar and out into the lobby, “I think it’s time we left. I’ll go and make a call to Johnson, can you stay out of trouble?” he went to leave Eliza by the bottom of a staircase.

“Wait…Thomas,” She grabbed his elbow again, stopping him in his tracks, “I don’t want to leave.”

“I’ve had enough.”

“Who was she?”

“No one of concern.”

“An old lover?”

“Eliza,” his eyes were dark, and his tone was full of warning.

“No. No, Tom. You aren’t going to sweep this under the carpet. I’m your wife, and you are going to tell me who that woman was. Because clearly, it’s someone important. Someone who means something to you. Otherwise you wouldn’t be as…as upset as you are right now,” Eliza stressed her point under her breath, not wishing to draw attention, “Whoever she is, I won’t let her ruin our evening. Do you understand?”

Apparently he didn’t, because he gave her an exasperated eye roll and turned on his heel setting off across the marble lobby to the reception area. Eliza huffed and glanced around, teetering on turning and going back into the party to enjoy herself. But to what end? She didn’t know anyone. But she’d so wanted to meet the prime minister, she’d only caught a glimpse of the man at dinner, right across the other side of the grand hall.

Eventually her husband returned, “Come on, Johnson will be outside in a moment,” He held an arm out to her. But she simply looked at it, before ignoring it completely and walking a few steps ahead of him towards the exit.

“Lady Eliza,” Johnson greeted her on the pavement outside, and moved to open the rear passenger door, “How was your evening?”

“It was fine, but if you don’t mind, I’d like to travel up front with you this evening,” she watched Mr. Johnson give a cursory glance behind her where she could feel her husband catch up with her.

“Eliza,” Thomas touched her arm.

“Don’t touch me.”

With that Eliza gave up waiting for permission and walked around the car into the road and opened the front passenger door and climbed in beside the driver’s seat.

The journey home was silent with her husband in the back of the car, and Johnson knew better than to initiate conversation with her in Thomas’ presence. The driver walked her to the front door and Thomas let them both inside.

“Lizzy,” he said, his tone calmer than before. Her foot had just hit the bottom step, as she intended to put herself straight to bed, “Please don’t be like this.”

“Like what?” she stepped back and turned to look at him, “It’s not me with a problem here, Thomas. You were intent on attending this evenings party. Despite me repeatedly telling you it was a poor idea. That you weren’t well enough to attend.”

“This has nothing to do with my health.”

“Oh I know,” Eliza huffed, “Tell me who she is to you.”

“What does it matter? She’s no one, not anymore. It doesn’t matter.”

“Fine… fine you don’t want to talk about her. So tell me something else. Tell me about the war, tell me why you didn’t tell me you were deaf?” she’d had enough. This was how it always was, and she’d honestly thought they were getting somewhere. She thought he felt something for her, that he trusted her. But nothing had changed, the second things weren’t going his way he threw a strop and any hope of getting a civil conversation out of him was lost. If Lord Thomas Hiddleston didn’t want to talk about something, he simply shut the topic down. Well not anymore.

“How is that even relevant?”

“Oh I don’t know? Maybe because I’m your wife? Because I live with you?”

“There’s no need for sarcasm.”

“Tell me who she is.”

“Why?”

“Because I want to know.”

“It’s got absolutely nothing do with you!”

“It’s got everything to do with me!” Eliza practically screamed, and she could see the fury on her husband’s face as he his eyes blackened with rage and his cheeks flushed.

“How?” He practically roared.

“Because I’m the one now paying for whatever she did to you. I’m the unfortunate soul who ended up with a bitter old man, who on so many occasions has shown he does have a place within him to care for a woman beyond thinking she is worth more than a good fuck, but constantly doubts his ability to love freely!”

 

Thomas felt himself almost fall backwards from the force of her words. It felt more like she’d struck him with her hand, as opposed to just delivering a few home truths. She had him completely worked out, and he wasn’t quite sure what to do with that knowledge. He knew his little wife was academically smart, but he’d never realised quite how good a grasp she had on the world around her. Even now, after all these weeks and how far they’d come, he’d under estimated her.

He took several deep breaths and allowed his shoulders to relax. He looked down to the floor and spoke, “She…Edith…and I…we were not lovers, not in the…biblical sense. I can assure you. But…we were engaged. A long time ago.”

“Engaged?” Eliza squeaked, unable to hide her shock, “But…but…I thought…”

“That I’d always been a philanderer?”

“Thomas, no, that’s not…I don’t…”

“We were not lovers, but we were in love. At least I was, is that what you wanted to hear?”

“Do you still love her?”

“Excuse me?”

“Do you still love her?” Eliza stepped closer to her husband, close enough for him to reach her.

“No…no of course not.”

“Did she hurt you?” Eliza asked, and her husband shifted awkwardly, looking away, “Or you her?”

“I did not hurt her. At least not intentionally, I left her, when I enlisted to fight for my country.”

“But she hurt you, didn’t she?” he could only nod, a very small affirmation of Eliza’s suspicions. Without pushing the subject anymore, Eliza closed the gap between them, taking his arms and encouraging him to wrap them around her, she tiptoed up and pushed a sweet kiss to his lips, “I’m sorry she hurt you, Tom.”

He allowed her to wrap her arms around him and he rested his chin on her shoulder, enjoying the warmth of her smaller body pressed against him. This was it, she was all he had. He’d been alone for so very long, and now he’d been gifted with the lovely woman who for some reason, despite everything he’d done to her, still wanted to hold him and comfort him.

“She was promised to another,” it had been quiet for several moments as they stood in the darkened lobby of the townhouse, in each other’s arms. Eliza pulled back when he’d finally spoken again, a confused frown gracing her pretty features. He didn’t want to talk about it. Seeing Edith had knocked him for six, it had been…goodness…over seven years since he’d last seen her, but he knew he owed Eliza a full explanation, she was right. Every bit of it was her business.

“Who?”

“Edith.”

“Oh.”

“Our families were friends, well…Fathers business associates. We were young, we fell in love. She didn’t want to marry the man her parents had chosen for her. We courted in secret for two years, we were waiting for my father to retire, we hoped once I ran the company her family may be more accepting of our marriage. But then… the war happened, and I had to leave. Before I left, I proposed, I promised when I returned from war we would wed, whether our families permitted it or not, we would run away if that’s what it took.”

“What happened?”

“I came home…she was married.”

“Ah…to the man she was promised to?”

“No, to someone else.”

“Tom –”

But he didn’t let her interrupt, he’d started now, “There was no explanation, no apology. She didn’t write, or meet with me. I heard the news through my parents. Tonight was the first time I’ve seen her since before I left to go to war.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Why are you apologising?”

“Because…I…I hate the thought of you in so much pain. Of not being able to speak to anyone about it.”

“You’re the first person I’ve ever told…about what happened, about our relationship.”

“Would you like a drink? You could probably do with one?” Eliza pulled away finally, looking towards the dining room, with the intention of pouring him a Scotch.

“No, thank you. I won’t. I think I’m just going to turn in for the night.”

“Alright. Me too.”

“Thank you…erm…for listening, for…Christ... for putting up with me,” Thomas gave a resentful chuckle, “You deserve better.”

“Maybe,” Eliza shrugged, unable to be anything other than honest, “But this is what I’ve got. It’s what we’ve both got.”

With that she turned and began her assent of the staircase, and Thomas followed close behind. When the pair reached the first floor landing, then stopped again, in the place they’d come to bid each other goodnight, where the hall split, with Eliza’s bedroom to the front of the house, Thomas’ to the rear.

“Well, Goodnight, Tom,” Eliza dipped her head at her husband and gave him a small smile.

“May I kiss you?” he always asked now, for anything more than a kiss on the cheek. Eliza initiated most of their affection, but he never lay a hand on her without permission. Sometimes she said no, often in fact. The relationship they’d developed since he’d returned from America and she’d cared for him throughout his recovery had been entirely on her grounds. This evening however, to his surprise, she nodded.

He moved closer, until he was within touching distance and took her chin gently on his fingers, and tilted her head up so he could duck down and brush his lips over hers. He could feel her relax against him, feel her breathing steady, and watching her eyes flutter closed. She didn’t flinch or pull away when he suckled gently on her bottom lip. In for a penny, in for a pound, he thought, and brought his other hand to the base of her spine.

She didn’t stop him when he pushed the lower half of her body into his, so her swollen belly was trapped between them, and he increased the pressure of his mouth on hers. In fact he heard the hitch in her breath and was immediately aware of one of her hands on his arm, holding him in place. He moved his hand to hold the back of her head, and darted his tongue to press against the seam of her lips. She didn’t relent to him right away, but he realised as he pulled back a little of nipped her bottom lip, that she didn’t know what he was doing. She’d never been kissed like this before.

“Open your mouth, Lizzy,” he mumbled the words huskily against her lips, and nipped again. Her lips parted in a small gasp and he took his chance, pushing his tongue into her mouth and seeking hers. Her tongue met his and lapped against it, mouths sealed together tightly, and both of her arms wrapped around him, holding him to her tightly, as their kiss intensified. She was a quick study, Tom thought, as she eagerly returned his affection.

Eventually, with the need to breathe becoming more urgent, the pair fell apart. Both letting go of one another and parting by several steps, gasping for air and eyeing each other with the same sense of wonder. As if seeing each other for the first time, despite having been married and sharing a house for almost nine months.

“Well, erm…goodnight,” Eliza stuttered after a couple of seconds, and spun quickly on her heel and disappeared into her bedroom shutting the door loudly behind her. Thomas stared after her, his heart still beating rapidly in his chest as he wondered for the millionth time that evening what on earth he’d done to deserve such a woman.


	17. SEVENTEEN

Eliza’s heart was still thudding in her chest when she climbed into bed, after having changed out of her dress and into her long night gown. She pulled up the extra blankets around herself to protect herself from the winter chill in her room, and settled back on the soft pillow, letting a hand settle over her belly.

What on earth had just happened?

Alright, she supposed it wasn’t a complete surprise. She and Thomas had been growing closer, and their shared affection had become more frequent. Before he’d gone to America, they’d shared that kiss. He’d written to her, telling her how much he missed her. Their relationship had been taking a romantic turn, despite her hesitancy to allow this, she’d not stopped it.

Since his return, and through his recovery their bond had only strengthened. Thomas had on many occasions had her blushing to her boots with his compliments, and sweet words of adoration towards her. But he still ran hot and cold and that was why she never took it for granted that he was a changed man. He was still the same man who’d struck her, the same man who’d made her life a complete misery for months on end. The same man who’d been unfaithful.

She’d not cared about that then. But she cared now. She’d be lying if she said she wouldn’t be hurt to find out he was still fooling around with other woman. Because Eliza wasn’t stupid, she knew that his secretary, Olivia, was likely just one of many.

But tonight had been different. He’d spoken to her, properly, for the first time. She’d spoken to him a lot, she’d opened up to him without really meaning to. He knew all about her life, her mother, her relationship with her brothers, he’d listened. But he’d said very little about himself, he’d been a closed book and that had been Eliza’s only reservation regarding the romance which was blossoming between them.

He’d proven that he could be a good husband, a supportive one. In return, in his time of need she’d not left his side, she’d personally taken it upon herself to nurse him back to full health. She knew he was grateful, he’d told her as much.

But then he’d kissed her.

He’d asked, as he quite often did. When Eliza was feeling amiable she would allow him to peck her lips gently, or sit her on his knee and hold her for a while. But until tonight, she wasn’t sure she’d ever allow anything more than this.

Even now, she was taking deep breathes, trying to regulate her breathing as her heart hammered away like a freight train. It felt like her stomach was doing flips. She couldn’t help but giggle to herself as to how silly she felt. Loved up, and blushing at the thought of her husband kissing her breathless in the hallway. Another stomach flip.

Eliza moved her hand down over her belly, squirming at the feeling. Then it happened again, but this time she jumped. That wasn’t her stomach doing flips, she’d physically felt the movement against her palm. Excited, Eliza sat stilled and moved her hand, waiting to see if it happened again. Another gentle thump and she felt the light pressure against her fingers. It wasn’t the first time she’d felt the baby move, she’d been getting butterflies and little jolts for weeks, but this was the first time she’d felt it from the outside.

Without thinking about it, Eliza was out of bed, out of her bedroom and hurrying across the hall. She tapped hurriedly on her husband’s bedroom door, and waited anxiously bouncing on her heels.

 

“Lizzy?” Thomas frowned, opening his door to find his wife standing there in her nightdress, with the biggest smile he’d ever seen gracing her pretty mouth.

“The baby is kicking!” she announced excitedly, without waiting for an invitation or reply, she’d stepped up to him, grabbed his hand and pressed his open palm to her belly, over her nightdress. She fell quiet as she stilled in front of him, and he stood bemused as she moved his hand about, then let out a little frustrated whine when nothing happened, “It happened just a moment ago, I swear!”

The disappointment flooding her big wide eyes almost broke his heart. Seeing her go from being so excited to share this with him, to not being able to. She let go of his hand and it fell back to his side, “I’m sure it’ll happen again soon,” he offered a reassuring smile.

Eliza shrugged, “Sorry to disturb you,” she turned on the spot an started away from him, but he wasn’t about to let that happen, he wasn’t about to let her leave, did she not think him excited? He supposed he hadn’t really reacted like he was, but she had taken him quite by surprise, she’d not entered his bedroom since he’d been well enough to leave it. Certainly not in less than her full daytime wear.

“Lizzy, wait,” he called after her gently, taking her hand.

“Hmm?”

“Come on, come and sit with me, don’t be sad. If we wait for a bit maybe he…or she…will do it again?”

Eliza smiled at that and nodded in agreement and to his utter surprise she held onto his hand and lead him over to his own bed. She let go to clamber onto the side that wasn’t his favoured one, and pulled the blankets up, “We should have had Ruth stay later to start the fires, it’s too late now,” she grumbled.

“Well get comfortable and I’ll fetch some more blankets.”

“No it’s okay, I’ll be warmer once you get in.”

Thomas climbed back into his bed, which he’d barely settled into when she’d knocked on his bedroom door. He settled down next to her and wasn’t overly surprised when she snuggled into his side and instinctively, he lay his hand over her belly and her hand went over his, “What happened? What did it feel like?”

“Like…flips, like little punches,” she murmured into the dim light of the room, “I was just lying there, thinking…trying to… erm…I was thinking about you.”

“Me?” Thomas smirked, and pushed a kiss to the top of her head, “Really?”

“Well…you had just…we just…”

“Kissed.”

“Yes.”

“Like this?” he moved down and over her and brushed his lips over hers again, “Is this okay?”

“Mmm,” she hummed, her eyes falling closed.

“Lizzy?”

Her eyes opened and gazed into his blue ones, directly above her, “Yes?”

“Is this okay?”

“Yes…I said yes?”

“You didn’t, you…moaned.”

“Oh? Well, yes it’s okay.”

“Good. Let’s see if we can get that baby moving then, shall we?” before Eliza had chance to answer, or argue his mouth was on hers again. He was wrapping her up in his arms, pulling her whole body against his as he kissed her fully. Eliza’s hands floundered for bit, unsure what to do with them, until they settled, one hand moving to the back of his head threading through his shorter curls and the other tucked between them, palm flat on his chest.

Thomas was more than a little surprised by her sudden eagerness, he didn’t want to push his luck. He was a man and he had needs, needs which he'd suppressed and had been unfulfilled for almost four months now. But he wasn’t about to go putting all his hard work with Eliza to ruin because he couldn’t allow her some patience. She was more than just a quick fuck, he didn’t want that from her, he never had.

When and if Eliza ever allowed him access to her body again he would treat her exactly as she deserved, with the respect and love a husband should give his wife. Even if that meant putting aside his own pleasure for hers.

“Oh!” Eliza broke away a breathless exclamation leaving her lips.

“Lizzy?”

“It worked!” she squeaked quickly tugging out of his hold and rolling onto her back, “Quick! Just here!” she grasped for his wrist and pressed his hand to the lower part of her belly, “Can you feel it?”

Thomas remained silent to a second holding his large hand over her belly, just the sound of their joined heavy breathing filled the room. Then he felt it, a movement beneath his fingers, he moved his hands following the little flutters beneath the surface of his wife’s skin, “Oh...”

“Can you feel it?” Eliza asked, the excitement she’d shown upon entering his room returning. He looked up at her and grinned.

“I can,” and unable to stop himself he pushed a firm kiss to her lips, “I can...wow!” with that Thomas was drawing himself up on his knees so he could kneel over his wife and place both hands on her abdomen. Before he knew what he was really doing he was tugging at her night gown.

“Wait, wait,” Eliza said hurriedly, grasping at the fabric in his hands, eyes wide and cheeks pink with embarrassment, “I’m not...I haven’t....”

She wasn’t wearing underwear beneath her nightgown. Of course. The realisation caused Thomas to swallow hard and nod, resting a hand back over her belly resignedly, “I’m sorry,” he apologised, “I got carried away. I just...wanted to feel properly.”

Eliza nodded in understanding and a quiet fell between them. Then her hands were scrunching the fabric of her night up and she was dragging it up over her bare thighs, exposing herself to him inch by lovely, soft, pale inch, until the garment was bunched up just beneath her breasts exposing her completely from the tummy down. It seemed an afterthought when she grabbed the blankets and pulled them back up over her legs and intimate areas to just below her belly. She blushed as she looked back at her husband who was staring at her most unashamedly.

“You can feel now...if you want?” he didn’t hesitate at her invitation. Shuffling down the bed so his head was in line with her belly and resting one hand over it. The little life inside was still kicking away and he let his fingertip’s chase the movement with fascination. That was his baby in there, his child. He never thought he'd be a father, for quite a while he was convinced he'd never marry. He had been absolutely certain he would not fall in love again. But here he was married, and expecting his first child with a young woman who was somehow breaking down all his walls.

Thomas hadn’t realised he’d moved until his lips touched the soft flesh of Eliza's belly. He held his breath for a second waiting for her to ask him to stop, or gently push him away as she’d done before when he’d made an unwelcome move. But she didn’t. So throwing caution to the wind he blew a gentle breath over her navel and kissed again. This gifted him with a delightful little sigh from his wife’s lips and he glanced up to see her settled back on the mountain of pillows, eyes closed, looking thoroughly at peace. He placed a few more kisses over her belly and went to lay back by her side, but he was stopped.

Eliza's hand threaded through his hair and he looked up at her curiously. Her eyes were open now and she was watching him carefully, “Tom, can you...” she trailed off and shook her head a little, “Don’t worry.”

She dropped her hand and started pushing her night dress back in place but Thomas stopped her, resting one large hand over her much smaller one, “Can I what, love? What do you need?”

“It doesn’t matter,” she shook her head again and avoided eye contact. Thomas noticed under the dim lamp light her cheeks were flushed, “I should go back to bed.”

“Why don’t you stay?” he probably sounded a little too eager, but it didn’t seem to bother Eliza. In fact her reaction was the last thing he expected.

“Can you do that thing? The thing you offered to do for me before? To show me?” the words tumbled out of her mouth in a hurry and Thomas couldn’t opened his mouth to speak but there didn’t seem to be able to find the words. “If...if you don’t mind...if you want to?”

“Lizzy...” his voice came out in an unexpected croak, “Eliza, are you sure?”

“You don’t have to.”

“No, no...I’d love to. I want to...I really want to.”

“Okay.”

“Now?”

“Erm... is now okay? If it’s not a good time? When is a good time? Does it take long?” at her hurried bombardment of questions Thomas couldn't help but chuckle and realising his nervous little wife didn’t have the first idea what she was letting herself in for he kissed her gently on the lips to calm her.

“Now is good for me,” he told her, voice soft and reassuring, “And it takes as long as it takes. As long as you want or need. If you want me to stop, I will. Perhaps...we can start with some more kissing? Am I allowed to touch you? I'd love to take this horrid nightgown off of you?”

“Completely?” Eliza's eyes widened.

“Hmm,” he nodded, “I’ll undress too. If you feel more comfortable with it?”

“Okay,” she gave a small nod and bit her lip nervously as her fingers came up to the little row of buttons fastening the top of her nightdress and she started slipping them open. Thomas took no time at all to undo his own pyjama shirt and shuck it from his shoulders and onto the floor. Then he was helping Eliza as she tugged the night dress up and over her head he took it from her hands and didn’t stop her when she tugged the blankets up to cover her bared chest. He only caught a glimpse of her breasts, and the times in which they’d had intercourse before she’d kept herself mostly covered, but he was certain that seeing how things were going, quite soon he would be getting better acquainted with his wife’s lovely body.

Thomas pushed his pyjama bottoms over his hips and discarded them with the rest of the clothes. He didn’t attempt to hide himself or the semi he was now sporting from his wife as he settled back down on the bed next to her. Eliza had done her usual, her head was turned slightly away and her gaze was fixed on the wall.

“Lizzy,” Thomas murmured, “Will you look at me, darling?”

Slowly, she looked him in the eye and he smiled at her, trying to reassure her the best he could.

“Why does this feel like the first time?”

“Because it is.”

 

Eliza let her husband kiss her again, and allowed his hands to tug away the blankets as their kiss deepened. At first he kept his hand on her waist. She still had her arms folded over her chest, but as one of her husband’s large hands travelled over her ribs, she relaxed and let them fall away and he covered a breast with his palm, kneading gently, drawing a gasp from her lips.

He pecked her lips and jaw and then trailed wet kisses down her neck to her shoulder and Eliza felt like she was melting beneath him. He plucked a nipple with his fingers drawing a squeak from her and earning a chuckle from him.

“Exquisite,” he almost whispered before dropping his head and taking the other between his lips, sucking gently and swirling his tongue, before letting go and blowing a cool stream of air over the hardened bud.

“Oh…” Eliza breathed out the sound. Then he moved back up and kissed her lips again, taking a moment to urge her to make eye contact.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” His hand skimmed over her belly, and lower, settling on her hip.

“Yes.”

“Relax for me a little, darling,” he snuck a hand between her thighs, gently nudging her legs apart, then his mouth covered hers again, as his fingers found her folds, carefully working their way between them. Eliza couldn’t help the way her body tensed as he touched her. It wasn’t the first time, and he certainly seemed to be taking more care than he ever had before. But her thighs still clamped shut around his hand, stopping his movements. He watched her face, shushing her softly, and coaxing her to relax, “It’s okay, Lizzy. I can stop, shall I stop?”

“N…no,” she shook her head, and he smiled. She tried to relax, and her husband restarted his ministrations.

“Good girl,” he uttered, “Goodness, Lizzy, you’re so wet, do you feel that?”

She did feel it. She felt how his fingers glided through her folds and teased at her moist entrance. The new sensation caused her to buck a little off the mattress and a whimper escaped her lips. In their previous encounters there had been a certain amount of preparation. Thomas always used his fingers, and Eliza knew some level of lubrication was necessary, but right now she could practically feel the wetness trickling out of her, and when her husband’s fingers moved up, and circled that little nub at the top, a warmth spread through the lower half of her body and she felt another gush of fluid. Her breath caught in her throat, and as she gathered herself she felt panic rise up.

“Is…is that normal?” she asked breathlessly.

“Yes, love,” Thomas affirmed, “It’s your body responding to pleasure, preparing its self. The wetter you get, the more I know you’re enjoying it. It does feel good, yes?”

“I…I think so…it feels…oh!” she squeaked as he pressed on that little nub again, and Thomas chuckled.

“That, Lizzy, is that clitoris you were so curious about,” he circled it again, and her hips arched off the bed.

“Oh…gosh…that feels…incredible.”

“I can tell,” and he kept going, alternating between stroking her folds, teasing her entrance, enjoying the way it fluttered and contracted against his touch, then moving back to that little bundle of nerves and working her up until she was a writhing mess.

It was too much, the feeling that was building inside, she was certain she might explode, it was almost burning. That thought in its self, made the feeling ebb slightly.

“Stop…stop,” she keened, and Thomas did, immediately.

“Are you alright? What’s wrong?”

“I’m not sure, it felt… I don’t know. It was too much…” she couldn’t explain it. But Thomas didn’t argue, he nodded slightly and gave her a seemingly knowing smile.

“Shall we try something else now?”

“Okay.”

“I think, what you’re feeling is perfectly normal, Lizzy,” Thomas told her, “I’m going to use my mouth on you now. But if you need me to stop I will. But…I think you should try and hold out…if you can.”

“But…but I’m all messy,” Eliza pressed her legs together.

“Well, that’s sort of the appeal.”

“Oh?”

“I can’t wait to taste you, I’m going to take these blankets off though. I think we’ll both be getting a bit hot otherwise,” Thomas tugged the sheets and blankets still covering them both up to the waist. Then he gave her another reassuring kiss, distracting her for a moment as his tongue probed her mouth, and she groaned into the kiss. Then his lips left hers, and began a trail down her body. He licked and nipped his was down her jaw to her neck and shoulder. Then he was working his mouth over her chest, and spent a little time lavishing her breasts with some more attention. He kissed his way over her swollen belly, and moved himself down the bed until he was in line with her centre, “I want you to spread your legs as wide as you can for me, Lizzy. I want to see you.”

She screwed her eyes up, and did as he asked.

Eliza wasn’t sure what she expected to feel next, but the wetness on her inner thigh took her by surprise, and she opened her eyes, pushing up on her elbows to watch her husband, as he took his time lavishing her sensitive flesh with kisses, combined with licks and gentle scrapes of his teeth as he worked upwards. When he finally travelled as far as he could he pressed his mouth to her mound, pressing his lips to the she short tuft of hair and kissing, nuzzling his nose as he did.

Then without any further preamble, he brought his hands up to part her folds with his fingers and ran his tongue up the length of her centre.

It was obscene, and Eliza couldn’t quite believe she what she was allowing. But Christ did it feel good. Her elbows almost buckled, but she couldn’t tear her eyes off her husband as he worked his mouth between her thighs. It was only when he latched his lips onto her clit and sucked, that she couldn’t kept herself up any longer. Eliza fell back onto the bed, letting out a strangled groan, and pushing her pelvis upwards into her husband’s face.

Thomas lapped away at her relentlessly and very quickly that unbearable warmth was building again. Eliza took large gulps of air, somehow forgetting to breath as the heat in her pelvis grew. It was the most unusual sensation, taking over her entire body, whilst being completely concentrated in one place. Then suddenly there was another feeling entirely, a fullness as Thomas inserted his fingers into her, and started thrusting them in time with his licks.

It was when he suckled again on her nub, whilst curling and pressing his fingers  up inside of her, that Eliza was suddenly overwhelmed with the feeling that she was on the edge of something, teetering and desperate and almost like she might wet herself. In a moment of panic she was moving her hands down, and pushing at her husband’s head, “Stop, stop, please, Tom…please.”

But this time he didn’t, although he did slow his ministrations. He didn’t remove his fingers, he continued to thrust them slowly, as he lifted his head to speak to her, “You’re so close, Lizzy. I know it feels strange, but I can feel you clenching around me. Let me take you there, love.”

“I’m scared,” she panted, bucking as he pressed his fingers upwards again, “Oh…fuck…sorry, I’m sorry!”

“I’m not going to hurt you, sweet girl. I promise. Lay back, let me finish you,” another stroke of his fingers, and all she could do was cry out, and he took the opportunity to latch onto her again. This time he took her swollen bud between his lips and flicked it quickly with his tongue.

Eliza wasn’t sure what happened next. It was like an explosion of heat which started in her pelvis and spread. It moved throughout her entire body and shot right to tips of her fingers and shot down to her toes. Her vision went blank and her entire body convulsed, as waves of white hot pleasure rolled over her. It seemed to feel like it was never going to end, but at the same time was over all too soon, as her boy collapsed onto the bed, and her eyes drifted closed, chest heaving with exhaustion.

“Lizzy?” her husband’s low voice was suddenly in her ears, and she felt like she was coming round, “Lizzy, darling, can you hear me?”

Her eyes blinked open and Thomas was hovering above her, concern gracing his features. She could only offer a lazy smile and nod back at him. He chuckled, clearly relieved and pressed his lips to hers, kissing her deeply, and she was vaguely aware of the dampness on his chin, and a slight musky smell. But he tasted sweet, and she parted her lips so he could kiss her deeper.

“I understand now,” she said when they eventually parted for air, and Thomas arched he brow as he settled next to her, “Why people would do that, I mean. I understand the appeal…that was…incredible.”

“That, darling girl, was your first orgasm.”

“Oh,” Eliza cheeks pinked even more at that news.

“First of many, I hope. Although, perhaps you’d like to sleep for a little while? It’s very late, you look exhausted, in a good way, I must add,” Thomas smirked, and started tugging the blankets back up around them.

Eliza allowed her husband to pulled her naked body against his and cocoon them in the piles of blankets. She felt boneless and more sated than she’d ever felt in her life. She’d read about orgasms, although hadn’t been sure if they were real, or if she was able to have them. If she wasn’t floating so much on her post orgasmic bliss, she might have found it within herself to be cross to know what Thomas had been withholding from her. Although, could she blame him entirely? She wouldn’t have let him carry out such an act before now. But maybe if things had been different from the start?

It was only when Thomas reached over and turned off the bedside lamp, and wrapped his arms around her, did she become aware of his manhood pressing against her thigh. He was still hard, but he’d not asked anything of her. She shifted against him and heard his breath catch in his throat.

“Tom?” she asked, loud enough for him to hear her.

“Hmm?”

“Can I do something for you?”

He didn’t answer straight away, then when he did it wasn’t what she expected, “Not now, you need to sleep, Lizzy.”

So she left it for a little while longer, but felt him consciously pull away so he wasn’t pressed against her. She couldn’t sleep though, and she knew from the sound of his breathing as wasn’t sleeping either. So she decided to make a bold move. Eliza pushed herself out of his hold and he let go easily, clearly thinking she needed space, that perhaps things had gone a bit further than she was comfortable with. But really she was just making the room she needed to position herself so she could comfortably reach him.

She tentatively moved her hand to his lower stomach, she felt the muscles contract under her touch as she moved lower and lower, until she felt him. She was gentle as she wrapped her fingers around his length, feeling him properly for the first time. She was surprised to find the skin under her fingertips almost silky, and although firm, it wasn’t as hard as she expected it to be. She could feel the veins running beneath, she could feel him twitch in her hand.

“Lizzy,” his hand lay over hers.

“Show me, Tom. I want to make you feel good, I don’t know how. But I want to.”

“Alright,” he agreed, finally. Then he moved over, kissing her sweetly in the dark, as he leant back over and turned the lamp back on, filling the room with a soft light, her hand never leaving him, “You’ll be the death of me, Eliza.”

“Well it’s only fair, because you damn near just killed me!”

Thomas laughed at that, and began pushing the blankets down again, enough to uncover himself, and at the sight of Eliza’s hand on him, he felt even more of his blood rush south. He’d never wanted this, he’d never had the patience for ill experience. But just thinking that his lovely wife had never done this before, not with anyone, was almost too much for him to bear. She was such a contradiction of innocence and experience. She had no idea what she was doing but she still exuberated confidence, she wanted to do this and she was asking for his help and that in its self was an incredible turn on.

“Is this okay?” Eliza asked, as she continued to run her hand over him, her touch light and gentle and grip loose. Her eyes sort his out for approval. She so wanted to get this right.

“Just having your hand on me feels wonderful,” Thomas told her, his voice a little breathless, “But you won’t hurt me. Hold it a little firmer,” Eliza’s grip tightened around his length and she shot him a concerned look, but he nodded encouragingly, “That’s it…hmm… and then keep doing that,” he managed to nod, trying not to lose his composure.

Eliza continued stroking him, keeping her grip steady and trying to ignore that little ache in her wrist, radiating up her forearm. But she watched her husband with enrapt fascination as his eyes fell closed and his chest rose and fell deeply, “Can I touch you?” he suddenly asked, opening his eyes.

“Me?”

“Yes, I want to feel you, come up here a bit,” Eliza let go momentarily, so she could rearrange herself, settling down alongside Thomas, and reaching down to grasp him again, as one of his hand came up to the breast which was closest for him to reach and he fondled it in his palm, “A little faster.”

Eliza sped up her strokes, and Thomas groaned in appreciation, as his fingers worked at her nipple, plucking and pulling enough to start building a new heat in the bit of her belly. Her rhythm faltered from the ache in her arm, and she silently chastised herself, she wasn’t very good at this, and her husband’s eyes met hers.

“Sorry,” she stuttered.

“You’re doing fine,” he told her, “It’s just… this is normally an activity I do alone. With you here naked next to me, it’s like my body is holding out for the next best thing,” he smirked a little.

“We can, if you want to,” Eliza surprised herself with the offer. Her only experience of intercourse was with the man beside her and up until now it had not been a good one. Uncomfortable, sometimes painful, and more often than not she was left feeling empty and used.

Thomas’ eyes didn’t leave hers, as he moved the hand that was still on her breast lower, over the curve of her swollen belly and between her thighs again. Her touched her carefully, but Eliza bucked against his hand, still sensitive from before.

“I’ll be careful,” he promised, “I’ll stop if you want me to.”

“Okay,” Eliza smiled, trying to look a lot more confident than she felt, and allowed Thomas to roll her onto her back and she let her legs fall open for him and he positioned himself between them. He took a moment drinking in her form, all open and on display for him.

“You look gorgeous like this, Lizzy,” he assured her, bending over and catching her lips and a brief, but fiery kiss. Then he was taking hold of himself and moving his tip to her entrance, pushing forward, and entering her. He was met with no resistance as he slid in easily, for the first time her body thoroughly prepared and ready for him.

It was a wholly unexpected and completely different sensation than Eliza was used to, and she couldn’t stop herself letting out a surprised, “Oh!”

“Everything okay?” Thomas asked, once he was fully seated inside of her.

“Yes,” Eliza nodded, but her head was to one side and she still avoided his gaze. Perhaps it was force of habit.

“Lizzy, sweetheart, I’ll stop if you can’t look at me,” so she did, she turned her head and he grinned at her, “There you are.”

“Please…move,” she stuttered, realising the throbbing heat between her legs begged for friction.

Move he did, without needing to be asked twice, Thomas sat up on his haunches, lifting Eliza's by her thighs and throwing her legs over his shoulders he started pounding into her at an unrelenting pace. Eliza felt her whole body arch at the pounding bliss each time he brushed a point inside of her, a twinge of ecstasy each time he hit the deepest point he could go.

She cried out with every thrust and Thomas grunted in time. It did cross his mind that perhaps he should go gentler on her, but he knew from past experience this was better for both of them. Besides he was so close already, and the way her channel clenched around him told him she wouldn’t last much longer either. She felt amazing like this, wet and hot and so pliable in his hands.

“Oh God, Tom...Tom!” Eliza cried as her second orgasm exploded in a completely different way to her first. This was more violent, and her hips arched painfully off the bed. Thomas’s movements slowed and he buried himself deep within her as his head dropped to her shoulder.

Thomas collapsed to one side pulling Eliza with him so no to crush her and held her close for several silent minutes. The only sound between them was their heavy breathing as they both regained their normal heartrate.

“Are you okay?” Thomas asked eventually, opening his eyes and moving Eliza's hair from her face so he could see her properly.

“I’m perfect.”

“Good…that’s good,” Thomas kissed her lips, lingering for a second, before pulling back, “Sleep now.”


	18. EIGHTEEN

It was the daylight streaming in from the window which roused Eliza from her deep, comfortable, slumber. She groaned softly, realising that the curtains had not been drawn the night before and it was likely still early. It took several more seconds for Eliza to remember where she was and her eyes snapped open.

She was curled up on her side and opposite her Thomas lay, wide awake, propped up on one arm with a book open on the bed beside him. But he was looking at her, not at his book. Her eyes darted from his face to his naked chest and then she became quickly aware of her own state of undress. Granted the blankets were pulled up to her neck.

“I…I’m sorry,” Eliza spluttered quickly, sitting up and keeping the sheets wrapped around herself. He’d invited her into his bed the night before, but he’d not permitted her to stay. She’d overstepped, “I’ll go now, I apologise.”

“Lizzy, what are you doing?” Thomas asked, amusement in his voice, “Have I done something to make you think I don’t want you in my bed?”

“No…I just… I always thought you preferred your space.”

“I invited you in here last night, did I not?” she nodded, “And if I’d wanted you to leave afterwards, I’d have asked you to do so?” she nodded again, “Then please settle back down, darling. It’s still early. The light woke me, I forgot to draw the curtains, I’d normally have Ruth do it. I’d have got up, but I can’t bring myself to leave the bed.”

“It is a very comfortable bed,” Eliza said quietly, holding the sheets tight to her neck.

“Well,” Thomas closed his book and reached behind to set it on his night stand, before moving across the bed and cupping Eliza’s cheek in one hand, then leaning in and pecking her lips gently. Instinctively Eliza kissed back, enjoying the surprising jolt of warmth that shot through her at his touch, “My hesitation to leave this bed has little to do with its comfort and everything to do with the beautiful woman I’m currently sharing it with,” Eliza’s eyes widened and she felt her cheeks heat at his compliment, “Tell, how do you feel this morning?”

“I…good. I feel good,” and nervous and confused and completely blissed out by what she’d experienced at the hands of her frustrating husband last night. Eliza jumped under his touch at the sound of the downstairs clock chiming loudly. Six o’clock, “Goodness, Ruth and Clark will be here soon!”

“It’s Sunday, Lizzy,” Thomas reminded her.

“Oh… of course.”

“You’re uncomfortable. I understand,” he retracted his hand and moved away giving her space.

She didn’t miss the hurt in his expression, the rejection he felt at her guarded behaviour. What was wrong with her? Last night had been…beautiful. Thomas had been loving and attentive, patient and kind. A barrier had been broken and she trusted him, didn’t she? So why was she intent on putting that wall back up?

“Tom,” Eliza’s grip on the sheets loosened and she allowed herself to move towards him, carefully moulding her naked body against his beneath the covers and unable to stifle the little gasp that escaped her lips as she experienced a jolt of arousal, “This is so new, I’m not sure how to behave. I don’t want to take liberties with you, to do something wrong?”

“This is new for me too, my love,” he rolled, pulling her flush against him. His erection pressed insistently into her belly and Eliza squirmed against him, heat flooding her cheeks. She sheepishly lifted one leg and draped it over his. He chuckled and leant in for a kiss. Their lips pressed together and it was slow and lazy. Eliza allowed her hands to roam, down her lovers back and over his firm backside, she pressed her fingers into the flesh there, and her husband nipped her lip playfully, “God, you’re perfect.”

“What should we do today?” Eliza asked, pulling back from the kiss.

“Well I’d love to stay here all day and do this. But I suppose we should eat at some point too. You must be starving?” Eliza was hungry, last night had caused her to build quite an appetite, but it was only just past dawn and she wasn’t sure what she could stomach yet. Besides eating usually caused her unborn baby to do a myriad of somersaults in her belly and right now he or she was sleeping soundly.

“We could stay in bed a little longer,” Eliza suggested, “Then later I'll cook us some eggs and make some coffee?”

“Hmm that sounds perfect. I’m sure I can think of a few ways to keep you entertained here,” Thomas' hand slid round her side and cupped her bare breast, drawing a little squeak from his wife. His mouth found hers and they kissed soundly for another moment, simply enjoying each other. In a moment of boldness, Eliza pushed Thomas and managed to get him on his back, swung one leg over his hip and pushed herself up so she was straddling his waist. She wasn't sure what had made her do it, maybe an urge to display a little bit of power over the man she was suddenly sharing a bed with. To show him she still held some level of control over the situation. Thomas stared up at her with an amused glint in his eye, “Well that was unexpected, Lizzy. I am terribly keen to know what you intend to do with me now you appear to have me at your mercy.”

She gave him a defiant glare and settled her palms flat on his chest as she adjusted her hips so her centre sat directly over his manhood. She was hot, and wet, and impossibly aroused and Thomas could feel it as she slid herself wantonly up and down his length, letting her moisture be drawn up over her clit and stimulated herself on him, drawing small, breathless pants from her lips and her eyes dropped closed.

“Show...show me what to do?”

“I don’t think I need to sweet girl. You’re doing just perfectly.”

Her eyes fluttered open and she looked down at her husband as her pleasure climbed. His eyes were black with lust as he watched her take her pleasure from him. Her beautiful naked body moving above him. He wondered if she'd allow him to touch her. He wanted to. He wanted to hold her hips as she moved. To tweak a nipple and send her over the edge. He wanted to watch her come apart above him. Carefully he moved one hand up and settled it on her waist and he heard her breath hitch as he touched her.

“Tom...”

“Yes?”

“Can...can I put you inside me?” if he was honest, he nearly came right there and then from her innocent words, involving a far from innocent act.  

“You can do what you want with me, Lizzy. I’m completely at your mercy,” he told her, breathlessly.

She didn’t still her movements for a moment, and continued rubbing herself on him, her movements slightly faster and he could feel her getting wetter. Then she stopped and knelt up. Reaching between her legs she grasped his length and only looked up at him very briefly before looking down and watching herself as she fumbled. She ran him up and down her folds, pushing herself down until eventually he breached her entrance and she sunk down onto him much quickly that she’d clearly anticipated and she cried out. He felt her clamp down on him, her channel pulsing rhythmically, her hands scrambled for something to hold onto as she rode out her unexpected climax. Without hesitation Thomas gripped her hips with both hands and began moving her before her orgasm had fully ebbed away. He wouldn’t take long and at this rate as she cried out at every movement he knew that she would be tumbling over the edge again very soon.

“That’s it, darling. Good girl,” Thomas encouraged, his own release imminent.

“I…I can’t,” Eliza whimpered, as her husband kept hold of her, kept moving her.

“You can,” he assured her, and thrust his hips upwards to meet hers.

“Tom…Thomas,” Eliza panted his name, as her second climax started, not as powerful as the first but  strong enough for her back to arch and her thighs to clamp hard around his hips as he found his own release. His head dropped back and his grip on her waist loosened. Seconds later a giggling coming from above him gave him cause to open his eyes and look up at his wife curiously.

She still remained sitting astride him, hair mussed, cheeks rosy and one hand resting over her swollen belly.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, unable to stop himself smiling.

“We woke the baby,” Thomas laughed at that and reached out to rest his hand on her bump, and sure enough he could feel the ripple beneath the surface as their unborn child kicked away.

 

 

“Mother has invited us for Christmas, do you object?” Thomas padded into the kitchen, dressed in some more casual trousers and a shirt which was unbuttoned at the neck. Eliza had donned her nightgown and slippers and a heavy robe and pottered by the stove preparing poached eggs and grilling the bread for toast.

“Not at all. My father doesn’t celebrate,” Eliza responded, tilting her head slightly so when Thomas rested his hands on her hips and dipped his head he could place a scattering of kisses on her neck, “It’s a little last minute, isn’t it? I presumed we’d spend it here, alone?”

“I think she was holding out, due to my health.”

“Of course.”

“Why doesn’t your father celebrate?”

“My Mother adored Christmas. He finds it too painful. Last year I spent the day at the shelter, serving Christmas lunches to the poor.”

“Not with your brothers?”

“I have spent it with them before, but…you know I can’t remember the last time I had a real Christmas.”

“Well Mother and Father are extravagant, so this year you’ll have one,” Thomas promised her with a final kiss to her cheek, and then he stepped back to allow her to finish serving up their breakfast and set it down on the small table, normally reserved for the household staff, “We’re eating here?”

“I see no reason in setting up the dining room,” Eliza shrugged and pulled her own chair out, taking a seat at the table, “It’s just the two of us. It’s just breakfast.”

Thomas sat himself down quietly, and allowed Eliza to pour him a coffee and add cream. He picked up the pepper mill and ground some over his eggs, then tucked in.

“You know…I prefer you like this,” Eliza started and he looked up from his food, arching a questioning brow, as she gestured to him vaguely with her fork, “All…undone.”

“Undone?”

“Yes. Your hair, your clothes. You look…happier.”

“I am happy, are you?”

“Yes…”

“I sense a but?”

“No, no but.”

“This is wonderful, Lizzy.”

“It’s only poached eggs.”

“I was thinking…we should start interviewing for Nanny’s soon. You’ll need some help when the baby is here.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Lizzy.”

“No, this isn’t up for discussion. I’m perfectly capable of parenting my child. It’s not like I have much else to do. Also I have Jenny and Ruth. We won’t need a Nanny.”

“If my Mother asks –” Eliza cut him off sharply.

“I’ll tell her exactly as I’ve just told you.”

“You certainly are…a very challenging young woman, Lizzy,” Thomas resigned and shook his head, “You drive me crazy.”

“You love me,” Eliza sing-songed the words, playfully. Not realising their worth. The gravity behind them. Not until she noticed her husband’s serious expression, as he turned her words around in his head.

“I do.”

 

 

“Tom?” Eliza looked up from her book, over to her husband who was quietly sitting in his armchair, completing the crossword in the paper from the day before. He didn’t look up, so she tried again, louder, “Thomas?”

“Mm?” he looked over at her.

“Did you mean it?”

“What, love?”

“That you love me?”

“I don’t say those words lightly, darling. Of course I mean it.”

“I see,” Eliza nodded and looked back to her book, she wasn’t reading through. She was lost in thought. Thomas admitting his true affection for her had made her feel terribly uncomfortable about the events of last night and this morning. Mostly because she was not entirely sure if she loved him back.

“Is something wrong, Lizzy?”

“Yes.”

“Please tell me?”

“I cannot imagine doing what we did last night… what you did, to me, with me. With someone I didn’t trust completely, with someone I hadn’t spent a determined amount of time getting to know. I’d like to think that is why up until last night, the very idea of…sex… made me feel physically sick. You knew that, didn’t you? I used to dread having to open my legs for you, because the whole experience was so terribly unpleasant.”

“Lizzy…I…” but Thomas stopped, unsure what he really wanted to say. There were no words which could convey how terrible her admission made him feel.

“Those things we did. The things you did for me. Did you do them for your whores?”

You could hear the silence that fell between them, it was deafening. The tone of her question was not spiteful, nor angry or hurt. It was curious. But still Thomas felt the fire of his anger as it flared up in his gut.

“I beg your pardon?”

“I won’t ask again. You did hear what I said. I understand it’s not a nice question. But…I need to know.”

Silence again. Thomas took several deep inhalations. Never before had he encountered such…such impertinence. From a woman. From his wife. But she seemed oblivious to that fact, in fact her innocent expression told him that she wasn’t asking out of disrespect, but because she genuinely thought she was entitled to an answer. He’d never had to answer to anyone in his life. He was a lord.

“I’m not as naïve as to think your secretary was the only one. I know I shouldn’t care, I know it’s not really any of my business…but you just told me you loved me, and I read a lot of books, and I know it’s terribly fantastical of me to believe in the idea of true love. So when you say you love me…what exactly do you mean?” Eliza explained her line of questioning calmly, so as not to anger her husband anymore, as she could see the familiar twitch of his jaw.

“Of course…it is your business, Eliza. We are married,” he told her finally. Then he fell silent again, and Eliza could see the fire burning in his eyes. He was angry. But she wasn’t sure if he was actually cross with her for asking the question? In the past he wouldn’t have hesitated to raise his voice, send her to her room like a naughty child. Or hit her. Though that had happened on one occasion, and he’d not lifted a hand to her since, choosing to deliver his punishments in a more emotional way. She wondered if he regretted marking her face. Right now though, he looked fit to combust, but seemed to have no where to direct his anger, “I’ve only every loved one woman before you, Lizzy. But what I feel for you is very different. Its new and its incredible and it scares me and thrills me all at once. But I don’t expect for a second for you to feel the same…not after how I’ve abused you. I’m grateful for every second of  your time you give me, every ounce of  trust you bestow upon me…I suppose, if you’re asking me what I mean when I say I love you…it’s that I’ll do everything within my power to shower you with all the affection you’ll allow, protect you, comfort you and care for you, for as long as you’ll let me. I won’t expect anything in return, I’m yours, Lizzy.”

“And if I ask you to remain faithful to me, and me alone. If I demand your fidelity?”

“You already have it. I don’t deny what I’ve done, but I promise you. What you witnessed in my office was the last. I have not sought the company of another woman since, and nor shall I. Though you have every reason not to believe me.”

“I believe you.” Eliza told him simply. Because she did. Because he may not have told her about the other women until now, but he’d not lied to her about it. Eliza was smart enough to know the difference between a lie an omission. Thomas omitted a lot, but he never lied.

“Thank you.”

“But you didn’t answer all of my question,” she wasn’t stupid, her husband had answered two thirds of her very loaded question, but he’d avoided the main premise of her question.

“Lizzy, I don’t feel comfortable discussing with you –”

“That’s fine. I understand,” She cut him off quickly, “Besides, that more or less answers my question doesn’t it?”

“You cannot hold something against me which happened long before we met.”

“Who said I was holding it against you?”

“You clearly are, otherwise you’d not have asked. Eliza I’m thirty-five years old. I was discovering…the benefits of female company many years before you even stepped out into society. I’m aware my reputation is less than squeaky clean. Please believe me when I say, it does not diminish how special last night was. And as crass as this may be, you were not complaining about the skills my reputation has afforded me when you were writhing under my tongue and screaming my name.”

Eliza straightened her back and gave him a hard look, “If it were the other way around, you’d call me a whore.”

“If it were the other way around, we’d not have been allowed to marry. You have no right to be cross about this! I understand you being angry about the other women, but you cannot be upset about what I did or didn’t do with them,” Thomas’ voice raised defensively.

“I have every right to be angry about it, when you’d sooner go and put your hands and mouth, and got knows what else on some paid tramp, than your own wife. Who was sitting at home desperate for your approval. Desperate to please you. Instead you lead me to believe that sex was a chore, an unbearable task which you completed with reluctance.” Eliza stood from her chair, ready to walk out. This was a mistake, all of this was a mistake. Last night should not have happened.

Thomas watched her, disbelief written all over his face. Disbelief and confusion, “What is this about, Eliza? Because I really thought we’d moved forward. I’m not sure what else I can do to convince you of how sorry I am? How much I regret –”

Eliza cut him off before he could finish, “I feel robbed!”

“Robbed?”

“Yes, Thomas. Robbed.”

“I see.”

“Do you?”

“I do, but I’m not going to keep apologising. I’m trying my best to be a better husband. Quite honestly, Eliza, I’m angry…and upset. I haven’t once forced you, Lizzy. Have I? I’ve not expected anything of you. Do you regret what has happened between us in the past twenty-four hours? Truly?”

“I...I do not,” Eliza answered honestly, and let out a resigned sigh, and moved towards her husband, carefully she lowered herself onto his lap, looping her arms around his neck and surprising him with a gentle kiss to his lips, “I just feel overwhelmed, is all.”

“I didn’t intend to overwhelm you.”

“I know you didn’t. Tom, you’ve done nothing wrong.”

“Oh no, Lizzy. I’ve done so many wrongs,” he kissed her again, tenderly, revelling in the feeling of her fingers stroking in the back of his neck. He darted his tongue to touch the seam of the lips, and she opened up to him, letting him kiss her fully. One of her hands came down to cup his jaw, then crept up, fingers stroking behind his right ear. She pulled from his mouth, and trailed kisses along the path her hand had taken, until she pressed a kiss just below his ear and pulled away.

“Did it hurt?”

“Hmm?”

“When…you lost your hearing? Doctor Lovick said you were too close to a shell going off?” her fingers continued to stroke the flesh behind his ear as she gazed into his eyes, waiting to see if he’d answer.

“Not as badly as you might think,” he pecked her lips reassuringly.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

He shrugged, “Not even my Mother knows.”

“Oh.”

“It’s never been much of a problem for me. I’d been in France around eight months when it happened. I didn’t come home for another four. There were men injured and maimed much worse than I,” He ran his fingers through her loose hair, enjoying the feeling of it free and unpinned.

“It must have been terrifying.”

“Yes.”

“You don’t like talking about it?”

“Not because of any residual trauma, I assure you. But because I did nothing spectacular. I’m a proud man, Lizzy. I fought for our country, but I’m just one of thousands. I have no exciting stories to share. I spent night after night sleeping in cold, wet, trenches. My status meant nothing. It was my decision to go, but most men my age weren’t fortunate enough to get a choice. I couldn’t have lived with myself if I’d not done my bit. I just count myself fortunate to have made it home in one piece.”

Eliza sat, stunned into silence by her husband’s words. For the first time she’d seen a completely new side to him. She was certain that she was the first person he’d ever spoken to about his part in the war, or at least explain why he didn’t talk about it. It wasn’t much, but it was enough for her. It was a piece of his life which he’d prefer to leave in the past.

But she felt so suddenly overwhelmed with pride and affection for her difficult husband. Piece by piece she was putting together the puzzle that was Lord Thomas Hiddleston.

She dropped her hand to his which rested over her thigh, and picked it up, threading her fingers through his and bring it to her mouth so she could press her lips to his knuckles.

“I’m sorry if what I said hurt you, I know you’ve been trying so hard to earn my favour. But I need you to stop trying now, Thomas. I’ve grown to adore you and I don’t want to spend the rest of our lives with you feeling that you owe me some kind of debt…I forgive you.”


	19. NINETEEN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Goodness - here it is! The final chapter!!!
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who has commented and left kudos and supported me through Thomas and Eliza's journey. 
> 
> I love you all!

“Lady Cottingham, please, with all due respect, Lady Eliza has requested you wait downstairs,” Ruth blocked the doorway of the bedroom, holding the door closed behind her. Eliza’s stepmother huffed in front of her, hands on hips, looking flustered and distressed.

“Don’t be absurd! I’m her mother!” Daphne exclaimed loudly, “She shouldn’t be on her own.”

“She’s not alone, my lady. Her maid, Miss. Jones is with her, as am I, she’s requested that other than Doctor Lovick, no one else be present,” Ruth reiterated what she’d already told the woman multiple times that morning.

“She’s not my bloody Mother!” came Eliza’s uncommonly shrill voice from inside the room.

“Please, my Lady. I’ll escort you downstairs and Miss. Betty will bring you and your husband some tea,” Ruth held her arm out and resignedly turned and haughtily stomped back to the staircase and made her way downstairs, the housekeeper in her wake.

Eliza’s father had insisted upon the visit around the estimated time of her due date. Although Eliza suspected it had more to do with her stepmothers insistence. But with work being as it was, Thomas agreed it might be nice for Eliza to have some company in the house. If only to distract her from her growing anxiety from her imminent labour.

Her labour which had started almost a whole day previous, although Eliza had failed to mention to anyone the twinging pains she’d been experiencing since the early hours of the morning. It was gone lunch when Jenny aired her concerns to Ruth, having noticed the tightening of Eliza’s jaw as she hid her discomfort.

Doctor Lovick was immediately called, and he confirmed that Eliza was in fact in the very early stages of her labour. She was only slightly dilated and would likely have a fair way to go. Her stepmother had been a great source of irritation ever since. Eliza had insisted upon going to bed as normal, too exhausted to stay awake, but it was in the early hours of the morning that she’d woken her husband and asked him to call the Doctor again.

Now her contractions were stronger and more regular, but the Doctor after another examination said progress was slow. Eliza tried to carry on as normal, but her husband had insisted upon not attending the office, and by mid-morning Eliza had taken herself back up to the bedroom, unable to bare the company of her stepmother any more, and the contractions had grown stronger still.

A further examination confirmed she was now well on her way, and Eliza had insisted upon only the presence of her ladies maid, housekeeper and if nessisary Doctor Lovick.

Downstairs, Thomas paced his study with Eliza’s father, Lord Cottingham. Smoking cigars and sipping Scotch, wetting the baby’s head. Thomas was wrought with anxiety, and was barely listening as Lord Cottingham relayed his memories of the births of all seven of his children.

“How is she?” Thomas asked, as Ruth passed the sitting room.

“Stubborn, and pig-headed,” Daphne answered, entering the dining room, and taking a seat at the table, “The silly girl needs her mother.”

“Which you are not,” Thomas reminded the older woman, “I’m sorry, Lord Cottingham, you know as well as anyone how fiercely independent your daughter is.”

“I do, son,” Eliza’s father nodded and raised his glass slightly, “Like her Mother.”

“Doctor Lovick is still with her, my Lord,” Ruth explained, placing a tray of tea on the table and setting out a cup and saucer for Lady Cottingham, “Her labour is progressing nicely. Everything appears normal.”

“Good…good,” Thomas breathed, and glanced at the doorway.

“She’s been asking for you, my Lord,” Ruth said, her voice hesitant. Eliza may have been very clear about wanting Daphne as far away as possible, but she’d been repeatedly asking for her husband.

“Please, Ruth. Assure my wife that the moment I am able, I will be at her side,” it was not the way, to have the father present throughout his wife’s labour. The moment Eliza had said she needed to retreat to the bedroom, Thomas had taken a private moment with her, to hold her and kiss her and tell her he loved her. Then he’d allowed Jenny to escort her to their bedroom.

“Lord Hiddleston?” Doctor Lovick appeared in the doorway, “Your wife is doing wonderfully. She’s still got a good few hours to go, so I’m going to do my rounds and then I’ll return and stay until after the birth, if that suits?”

“As you say, Doctor. You are the expert,” Thomas smiled appreciatively, “Is there anything she needs?”

“I’ve advised Miss. Jones to make sure she keeps hydrated, and to keep moving as much as possible whilst she can,” the doctor nodded, “Until later?” Ruth hurried to see the doctor out.

“Tommy!” Eliza’s voice suddenly cut through the house, her bellowing shout from the top of the staircase, and Thomas’ eyes widened.

“I’ll go…” Daphne moved to stand.

“No…she has requested that you do not, dear,” Lord Cottingham rested a hand over his wife’s arm.

“Mrs. Connelly,” Thomas exited the dining room and approached the housekeeper, “Please, go up now and see my wife.”

“Thomas!” another shout, “Get up here now!”

“Lizzy,” Jenny’s voice was next, “Please come back to your room.”

“I shan’t, not until my stupid husband gets upstairs!” Thomas looked to Ruth for back up, but the older woman simply chuckled under her breath and shook her head.

“You couldn’t sit with her a while?” Mrs. Connelly asked, quietly so Eliza didn’t hear.

“Of course I can’t. You know that…she knows that,” Thomas sighed, lifting his drink to his lips and taking a sip.  

“I’m coming down,” Eliza shouted. With that Ruth headed for the staircase, finding the heavily pregnant Eliza pacing the upstairs landing in her loose nightdress, one hand rested over her protruding stomach, “Ruth, is he coming?”

“You know he can’t, Eliza. It’s not proper,” Ruth explained gently.

“Oh, damn to hell what should be proper,” Eliza hissed, and stopped at the top of the staircase again, “Thomas, you put this child in me, you can at least come up here and be present whilst I try and get it out!”

Silence fell over the house hold for several seconds, as Eliza waited for a response on baited breath.

“Please, Lizzy… this stress isn’t good for the baby,” Jenny said quietly from the bedroom doorway, “Come on, I’ve put fresh sheets on the bed for you.”

Eliza turned, and started back for the bedroom, tears brimming in her eyes. She wanted her husband, she looked back to Ruth, “Please, Ruth. Talk to him. I need him.”

“Very well, Eliza,” Ruth turned and descended the stairs once more and headed for the dining room, “My lord, if I could have a moment?”

Thomas nodded, and stubbed out his freshly lit cigarette in the glass ashtray atop his desk, “Has she calmed down?”

“My Lord, if I may be so bold. Your wife, as you well know does not care for proprietary. She would like you by her side. I fear she is becoming distressed, and this is not good for the baby,” Ruth spoke her case, “I for one, believe a man’s place when his wife is labouring, is as far away as humanly possible. But in all due respect, Eliza is does not have her Mother, and she trusts you. You calm her.”

“Mrs. Connelly…Ruth…” Thomas started, but wasn’t sure what he could say.

“My Lord, I think if you could just sit with her a while. Comfort her, then when Doctor Lovick returns I’m certain she will feel much relieved…she’s trying to be brave sir, but she very scared,” Ruth finished softly, obviously trying to tug at her master’s heart strings.

Almost immediately, Thomas’ expression softened, and he nodded, turned and abruptly left his study and headed to the dining room.

“I think…” he started, addressing Eliza’s father, and stepmother, “Taking into account Doctor Lovick’s words, regarding my wife’s condition, I’d like to sit with her a while.”

“I beg your pardon?” Daphne started, standing from her seat and looking suitably appalled by Thomas’ suggestion, “You can’t go up there?”

“Why on earth not? Eliza is my wife, this is my house? Eliza is asking for me,” Thomas answered, civilly.

“It is…not right!” Daphne put on a stern expression.

“My dear, do settle down,” Eliza’s father rested a hand on his wife’s shoulder and urged her to sit back down, “Son, this is your home,” Lord Cottingham tilted his head.

With one sharp nod, Thomas turned and headed for the staircase.

 

Eliza stood bent over the edge of the bend, bracing herself with her arms out-stretched before her. Jenny stood to one side, rubbing a firm hand over her lower back, as Eliza took long, deep breaths.

“Miss. Jones,” Thomas spoke quietly from the doorway, causing the young maid to jump back from Eliza, who turned her head towards her husband.

“About time,” she hissed at him.

“Miss. Jones, if you’d give me a moment alone with my wife. I’ll call you back in shortly,” Jenny nodded at the request, quietly asking Eliza if she needed anything, before leaving the room, and nodding her curtsey at her master as she passed.

“Lizzy,” Thomas approached his wife slowly, taking in her prone form, where she will still braced over the bed, looking at him, her brow stern, and her face red and shiny with perspiration. Her hair stuck to her forehead, “My love, what can I do?”

“Just… just…” before she could get the rest of the sentence out her eyes closed and her face scrunched up. A groan came from somewhere deep within and she rocked herself back and forth on the spot as she rode out a particularly painful contraction. Thomas stood watching helplessly. Seconds later Eliza seemed to relax and she pushed herself to stand, “I’m scared.”

“Oh sweetheart, I know,” Thomas approached her fully now, stepping close but unsure whether he could touch her. She didn’t give him any choice in the matter though and suddenly her arms were around him, and her face was buried in his chest.

“I love you…I’m sorry I haven’t said it. I should have done. You tell me all the time, but I don’t say it back. But I do…I love you so much, please don’t leave me, I can’t do this without you. I need you,” the words rushed from Eliza’s lips, and Thomas didn’t hesitate to take her face between his hands, silencing her with a gentle kiss to her mouth.

“Shush, shush,” he comforted her, “I’m not going anywhere, my love,” Eliza nodded, but before she could say anything another crippling pain travelled through her body, starting in the middle of her back, shooting up and through her abdomen, and back down her thighs. She reached up, grabbing her husband’s shoulders and squeezing tightly, as she rode out the pain. Thomas didn’t falter this time, he grasped his wife’s forearms and rested his forehead against hers. Once she relaxed he lead her back to the bed, “Shall I call Jenny and Ruth back in?”

“You’re not going?” her eyes widened.

“No, no I’m not going,” he assured her, stepping back to the door to let the other two women who waited patiently outside the door.

From that point things escalated rather quickly. There was no way to contact Doctor Lovick when, less than an hour later Eliza was insisting that she needed to push. She’d scrambled on the bed and was on all fours.

“Eliza, love, please settle down, let’s try and get you comfortable,” Ruth encouraged, whilst Thomas lingered by the door, knowing he ought to leave, “Jenny, I think it’s time to fetch some hot water and some towels. Eliza come on, lie back down.”

“I can’t lie down,” Eliza snapped.

“Don’t you think we ought to wait for Doctor Lovick?” Thomas started. He’d already shed himself of his jacket, and his shirt was unbuttoned at the top now, slightly creased from his efforts with his wife. He’d been at her side constantly until this point. He’d mopped her brow with a damp cloth and rubbed her back, whispering words of encouragement, “He’ll only be another hour.”

“My Lord, this baby is ready to come out, and it’s not going to wait for the doctor I’m afraid,” Ruth started, then turned her attention back to Eliza as another strong contraction took over.

“I need to push, I need to push, I can feel the baby,” Eliza panted, as the pain abated and finally she allowed Ruth to help her arrange herself on the bed, “Tom…” she reached out a limp hand in his direction.

“Eliza…I shouldn’t be here,” he told her warily.

“Please…please,” her bottom lip wobbled, and without any hesitation Thomas was at her side, perching on the edge of the bed and taking her hand in his.

Jenny hurried back into the room with a pile of soft fluffy linen and a ceramic bowl of hot water, which she arranged on the side.

“Eliza, would you allow Miss. Jones or myself to take a look and see if we can see the head? Doctor Lovick said if we can see the head, then it’s time to push,” Ruth asked, only briefly glancing at Thomas, before looking back to Eliza.

“I don’t care,” Eliza groaned.

“Are you sure this is really nessisary?” Thomas asked, feeling most uncomfortable with the thought of his wife’s modesty being exposed.

“This is childbirth, you are aware where babies come from, are you not?” Ruth chuckled, as she encouraged Eliza’s feet apart with her hands, and pushed the light fabric of her nightdress up.

“I can see the head,” Jenny almost squeaked, from her place at the foot of the bed, “Oh my goodness, Lizzy!”

“Right, now you need to push on your next contraction, can you do that for me, Eliza?” Ruth asked, reaching out to push Eliza’s hair out of her face, “Thomas,” the housekeeper asked, for the first time shunning her husband’s title, “Perhaps if you take the cool flannel, keep a hold of her hand, and keep her hair out of her face, are you ready, Eliza?”

“No!” Eliza groaned loudly, as another contraction hit. When it did she bared down as hard as she could, baring her teeth and squeezing her eyes shut.

“Good girl, Lizzy,” Thomas managed to grit out, almost certain if she kept up her grip on his hand, he may sustain a few broken fingers.

“And again, Eliza,” Ruth encouraged, as her contractions were now almost on top of each other. A new one starting before Eliza had chance to recover from the previous.

“The heads nearly out,” Jenny piped up from her place where she knelt on the end of the bed, towels at the ready, “I think one more…”

“Come on, darling,” Thomas was almost entirely on the bed next to his wife, he pushed his lips to the top her head. He felt helpless, and at the same time utterly in awe of his wife, “That’s it, you’re doing wonderfully, my beautiful, brave girl.”

“Oh shut up!” the words left Eliza’s lips in a short, clipped way, and it wasn’t clear if she was talking to Thomas or Jenny, or just everyone in general, as she braced herself for another push.

“Okay, Eliza, well done, the head is out. Now take a moment and then on the next contraction, one more push, you’re doing really well,” Ruth encouraged, giving her arm a reassuring squeeze, “You’re nearly there, love.”

“I can’t,” the words left her lips in a whimper, “I can’t do it.”

“You can, Eliza. You’re so close, one more big push, come on!” Ruth cheered her on, and with some effort, Eliza pushed herself up, tugging her hand from Thomas’ and held herself under each knee, and bared down, almost growling as she forced down with her last contraction.

Jenny was there, holding the tiny infant, supporting the head, as the rest of its little body slid out. Eliza collapsed back onto the pillows almost instantly, closing her eyes and letting out of loud sob. Thomas waited on baited breath, unable to see what was going on down the other end of the bed as Ruth and Jenny fussed over the tiny bundle. Then suddenly a loud cry filled the room, and Thomas felt himself flood with relief.

Then the small bundle, wrapped loosely in a towel and still attached by its cord, was being passed up Eliza’s body and placed on her chest, and Thomas could only watch in amazement as Eliza instinctively brought her hands up to hold the baby to her body, and her eyes opened to look down at the newborn.

“Oh…” Eliza breathed out the word.

“Congratulations, My lord,” Ruth beamed from her place at the end of the bed, “You have a daughter.”

“A…a daughter,” Thomas repeated the words, as he watched his young wife fuss over the tiny bundle in her arms, stroking the small tuft of fair curls upon her head, “A little girl,” his voice cracked, and he didn’t move to wipe away the tears which trickled down his face.

 

A short while later Doctor Lovick returned. He beamed with pride, and showered Eliza with words of praise as he checked over her and the baby and declared them both a clean bill of health.

“Congratulations, Lady Eliza…” he turned to Thomas, “My lord…you have a beautiful, healthy, daughter. You must be very proud of your wife.”

“I am,” Thomas nodded, unable to take his eyes off his wife’s tired form, where she still lay in bed, the newborn tucked up to her chest and suckling contentedly at her breast, “She’s an incredible woman.”

“That she is. If you need anything you know how to get a hold of me. But I think you’re all going to be just fine,” the Doctor nodded his farewell, and left the new parents alone with their child.

Thomas loitered by the side of the bed, watching as Eliza fussed over the tiny bundle in her arms, who’d apparently had her fill of milk and was sleeping soundly against her mother’s chest. He held back, fascinated by how Eliza naturally took to motherhood and seemed to know exactly what to do with their child, yet he was terrified.

“You’ve not held her yet,” Eliza looked up at him, her eyes bright considering how exhausted she must have been feeling, “Please take her?”

“Ah…maybe later, she’s asleep,” Thomas eyed his daughter nervously.

“She’s a baby, if you’re waiting for her to wake up, you’ll be waiting a while. All they do is eat and sleep,” Eliza smirked, “Why don’t you come and sit next to me?” she nodded at the armchair that had been pulled up next to the bed, “You aren’t going to hurt her, you’re her Daddy.”

Thomas nodded quickly and moved towards her. Eliza manoeuvred the baby until she could hold her for Thomas to take. Carefully he tucked one large hand under the babies bottom, and following Eliza’s lead, the other supported her upper back and head. He very carefully lifted the little bundle, surprised by her lightness, and brought her to his chest, then slowly sat to recline in the arm chair and delicately arranged the baby, who didn’t even stir, in his arms.

She was utterly perfect. Tiny, with a little button nose, and pink lips. He wasn’t sure who she looked like more, but what he did know what that she was the most beautiful little thing he’d ever seen in his life, and he was instantly in love with her.

“She has your mouth,” Eliza said quietly.

“Poor little thing,” Thomas chuckled softly, bringing a finger to touch his daughters cheek, “Her skin is so soft.”

“We should probably give her a name?”

“Yes.”

“Do you have any traditions we need to adhere to?”

“None I want to stick to. She’s our daughter, we call her what we want to call her.”

“May I make a suggestion?”

“Please?”

“Well… my Mother was called Polly.”

Thomas fell quiet, not taking his eyes of the sleeping babe in his arms, drinking in her perfect features and committing them to memory. Then he nodded slowly, “Hello, Polly,” and he lifted her as he dipped his head and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head.

 

*

 

“Have you called your Mother?” Eliza asked, her tone loaded with caution. Her own Father and stepmother had left earlier that morning, and she was honestly relieved. Her father was a very proud grandfather, but he could tell how exhausted his daughter was, and Daphne was grating on everyone’s nerves. It was at her husband’s insistence that they be left alone and no offense was taken.

Eliza had forced herself from bed, having somehow managed to get quite a substantial amount of sleep, only waking to feed Polly when she stirred, each time Thomas fetching the infant from the cradle and resting her on her Mother’s chest. She wasn’t certain how much sleep he’d gotten, he looked worse than she felt and she knew the subject of his own parents was a delicate one.

It seemed strange that since the relationship between the two of them had improved, the one he shared with his family was worse than ever. His Mother’s reluctance to visit, and his Father’s constant snide comments. It seemed their son was unable to do anything right in their eyes, even now that he’d all but put his philandering ways behind him, and become a doting husband, and invested businessman.

“I have,” he answered bluntly, from his settled place in the armchair, where he cradled his daughter in his arms. It was sweet, given his reluctance to hold her at first, now he could hardly bare to put her down. It warmed Eliza’s heart to see how fiercely protective he was of her, so instantly.

“I’m certain they send their love and congratulations?” Thomas frequently told her that sarcasm was unbecoming of a young lady, but this time he practically snorted, as laughter erupted from his throat.

“Something like that.”

“What did she say?”

“When I told her we’d had a daughter, Mother said, and I quote ‘Oh dear, never mind, maybe next time’,”

Eliza shook her head, “You know it doesn’t matter what they think?”

“It’s my Father’s company. It matters a great deal what he thinks.”

“Your Father will be dead within the year, then it’s your company,” Eliza sat in her own armchair, wincing as her tender parts throbbed with the residual pain of childbirth.

“You’re in pain, you should go back to bed,” Thomas was quick to notice her discomfort.

“I’ll be in pain for a while, I can’t lounge around all day,” Eliza huffs, “So we ought not to expect a visit from your Mother anytime soon then?”

“We’ve been invited for Easter. Mother won’t leave the estate with Father’s current condition.”

“I’m sure you’ll have a pleasant time.”

“Lizzy.”

“Tom.”

“You need not be like that. You know my Mother will still love Polly, just as she does my nieces. You know she loves you.”

“To be quite honest, I’m not certain she does. I’m not certain your Mother, or your Father know what love even is. I mean…where is she? Where has she ever been? They have staff, your mother is not sitting vigil by your Father’s bed. We’ve been there, she’s just waiting for him to die so she can start living her life again! You nearly died, Thomas! Her only son was…and I’m not exaggerating here, literally fighting for his life, and she couldn’t even be bothered to come and see you. All they care about is the business, and keeping up appearances. They don’t care about me or you, and they definitely don’t care about Polly. Even if she’d been a boy, they might care, but only because we’d produced a more suitable heir. Well, I’ve had enough. Quite honestly,” Eliza took a deep breath, attempting to calm her anger, “You can go and see them if you like, but I shan’t have anything further to do with them, and if they wish to see their granddaughter, they’ll need to come here.”

Thomas remained quiet giving his wife a moment to calm down. Once he was satisfied that she’d regained her breath, and was unlikely to bite his head off, he asked, “Do you feel better now?”

“Hmm?”

“Now that you’ve got that off your chest?”

“Yes…quite,” Eliza shot him a sardonic smile.

“Need I remind you, Lizzy, that I am your husband and should I wish for us to visit Bedgebury, you will be coming, with our daughter, whether you want to or not,” Eliza opened her mouth to speak, but when her husband gave her a pointed look she quickly thought better of it, “And I will _not_ hear you talk of my family in that way again. Is that clear?”

Eliza gave a small nod, watching her husband as he stood up with Polly in his arms and walked over to her, placing the stirring infant in her lap. Thomas left the sitting room and Eliza sat feeling quite guilty all of a sudden for her outburst. She’d all but suggested his mother and father didn’t love him, and as true as she felt it may be, she hadn’t considered how hurtful this might be to Thomas.

Carefully, Eliza pulled herself up, holding Polly to her body, she walked over to the cradle which she’d had placed by her armchair and settled the baby into it gently. She rocked it for a moment until she stopped stirring and appeared to be settled back into a deep slumber. Then Eliza went in search of her husband. She found him in his study, standing in front of his bookshelf, lit cigarette in one hand, and a tumbler of whiskey in the other.

“I’m sorry. I was callous,” she said approaching him from behind.

“Yes…but I’m certain you were also right.”

“Your Mother and Father love you.”

“Perhaps, in their own way.”

“I love you…you know that, don’t you?”

“Do you want to be married to me, Lizzy?”

“What are you talking about, Tom? We’re already married,” Eliza wrapped an arm around him from behind, and pressed herself against his back, holding herself to him, and pressing her face to his shoulder.

“I know we are…but…if we weren’t. If this hadn’t been the situation we’d found ourselves in. If…if we’d met under different circumstances. If I was to ask you now to be my wife…would you still want to?”

“Where is all this coming from, my love?”

“I don’t want us to be like my Mother and Father… I don’t want Polly to grow up not knowing how loved she is. Or for her to not see how much I love you,” Thomas explained, and set down his glass on a shelf then turned around to take his wife in his arms.

“Ask me now.”

“Ask you what?”

“Ask me to marry you. Properly. Here…” Eliza pulled back and twisted the beautiful jewelled ring off of her finger and held it out to Thomas. He glanced from the ring to Eliza, then nodded and took it from her. He took one last toke of his cigarette before stubbing it out in the ashtray on the sideboard and moved back to his wife. He took her hand in his, and dropped to one knee.

“My love…my life…Eliza…would you do me the honour of being my wife…would you allow me to love you, comfort you, protect you and worship you for the rest of our lives?” the words fell from Thomas’ lips and he gazed up at his wife as he asked. Eliza was already nodding before he even stopped talking.

“Get up, Thomas,” Eliza giggled, wrapping her fingers around his wrist and tugging gently, “Like you even need to ask, you silly man,” she allowed him to slide the ring back on her finger, “Though it was lovely having you ask me, and knowing you meant it.”

Thomas chuckled, and dipped down, pressed his mouth to his wife’s, and kissed her soundly, “I mean it, every word.”

“I’m yours and you’re mine,” Eliza started, “We are nothing like your parents, and I’m sorry if what I said was hurtful, I’m sure…I know they love you, the only way they understand love, but I understand it much differently, and I know you do to. I also know Polly will never feel as you do, as I have because she has us as parents. She is your heir Thomas, and your Father is not going to be able to tell you otherwise. Maybe we will have a son one day, maybe he will take over your family business…maybe he won’t even want to. But Polly will be just as capable because you are her Father and you are going to make sure she knows no matter what she chooses to do, she can do it with your blessing, and unwavering love.”

“How did I get so lucky?” Thomas wondered out loud, resting his hands on his wife’s hips and resting his forehead against hers, “I love you, Eliza Hiddleston.”

“I love you too…” just then a loud cry cut through the moment, and Eliza giggled, shoving Thomas away, “Go on, your daughter is calling you.”


End file.
